Idylle Incité
by Kay Cannon
Summary: After a rough morning and being stood up for a lunch meeting, structured Bella Swan meets the passionate & challenging Edward Cullen. A daily writing prompt series, for the month of December, hosted by Fictionista Workshop. BxE/AH/M for mature content.
1. Chance

**Prompt**: Lucky Break

**Disclaimer**: All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

It was just my luck that my blow dryer chose today to stop working. After five additional minutes of towel drying my hair, I still managed to leave the house looking like a damp poodle. I'd later complete the guise when my hair puffed out and had to be tied into the bun that I should have settled for in the first place.

It could only be my luck that caused me to catch every single one of the six lights that sat between my neighborhood and the freeway entrance. This was the same freeway that just happened to have a road block set up an exit away from the one I needed, turning a ten mile drive into an hour long trip. This very freeway also contained two lovely drivers, lacking even an ounce of courtesy. One viciously cut me off without a blinker and the other almost forced me to miss my exit by not allowing me to change into the required lane.

Additionally, it had to be my luck that made me stumble on my hurried way out of the car, resulting in the spilling of my somehow still awfully hot coffee over my previously bright white blouse. A wiser person, with such clear misfortune, would know better than to ever wear that particular color. I was not wise or lucky.

After a fruitless attempt to wash the bitter bean from my top, I was forced to change into an extra of the company shirts we handed out for marketing purposes. The traffic had left me unable to attend the first of several meetings on my calendar. I also lost any chance to speak with my manager prior to an indefinite termed imprisonment behind her office door. By nine thirty, I'd forfeited all hope for a decent day.

Following rescheduling the missed meeting and praying that my improvised purchasing decisions without manager guidance were in good judgment, I scrambled to make up for the wasted hour and a half. I had a twelve o'clock lunch date with a potential supplier that I simply could not miss. I needed it to work out because nailing that contract would likely be the boost I needed into my long awaited promotion.

Alas, the moment I sat at my reserved table, in a far too fancy restaurant of the prospective merchant's choosing, I received an email on my blackberry informing me that he wouldn't be able to make it due to a family emergency. I'd been placed in anything but an ideal location, near the bistro's front door. So, while I was hungry because there'd been no time for breakfast, I opted to return to work early and continue catching up.

"Table for one, please," a pleasantly melodic voice requested. I could hardly even enjoy the sound of it, given my mood.

"I'm sorry, sir. There aren't any available tables. You'll have to wait at least forty-five minutes to be seated." I listened as the hostess explained capacity constraints to the lovely toned patron and decided to do for someone else what I couldn't seem to do for myself. I threw him a bone.

"I'm on my way out. He can have my table." I reached down to grab my purse without bothering to look over as I spoke.

"That's kind of you," he remarked.

"No worries."

I hopped up and collided with a warm wall of cloth covered muscle. An arm secured itself to my waist, preventing me from propelling backward. The resulting gasp of breath, from shock and impact, was draped in mint and honey. The scent weakened my knees and all of my weight was suddenly supported solely by him.

"Are you alright?" He propped me up but did not release me.

"Fine. Sorry. I'm a klutz. This is very typical." I finally looked up and met a pair of sour apple green eyes. His cotton candy lips curled at the edges and a thick bronze brow arched, playfully.

"Well, I'm glad to have prevented another catastrophe."

I was glad, too. Surprisingly, I was grateful for it all – every ill-fated occurrence that had lead me to this very moment. Even with knowing nothing about him, I was fairly confident that I'd been destined to land right here, in his arms.

"What a lucky break."


	2. Opportunity

**Prompt**: Abracadabra

**Disclaimer**: All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

"You know, you don't have to go."

"I'm sorry?" I wasn't sure I'd heard him right.

"Well, it appears as if you didn't have lunch and we were both going to eat alone. Why should we? There's room enough for two here."

He was still holding me. It'd been about sixty seconds since I nearly tumbled into the table behind me and he'd caught me. It was difficult to think while pressed against the beautiful and fragrant man with no name. Why was I about to leave, again?

"Um…" That's right, work.

I peered over the bout of his frame that was within my line of sight. He wasn't a large man but he was tall and clearly toned. The only bit of squish between us resided on me. I felt heat rush through me and I didn't know if it was from being anxious about my current predicament or overwhelmed by his stature. Perhaps it was a little of both.

"…Unless you have other plans. I didn't mean to assume–"

"No." Why was I worried about him retracting his offer? "Well… I was just heading back to work."

He finally released me, grinning gently, and began straightening his scrunched clothing. "My apologies. Don't let me keep you."

Just as I was about to argue, even though I still wasn't sure why, the waitress appeared. "Would you like two menus or one?"

"Two, please." The words were out so fast I couldn't remember coming to a decision. His brilliant smile could have very well knocked me back over. I needed to keep myself together. "You're right. I should probably eat."

"Wonderful." The waitress handed me both menus and he pulled out the seat I'd left moments before. It was actually already set, since I'd never pushed it in, so he was merely being courteous. As I sat down, he bent forward and spoke staggeringly close to my ear. "I'm Edward Cullen."

He scooted me and the chair forward and then sat on the other end of the table. "Bella," I choked out, "Bella Swan."

This reaction to him was sort of mind boggling. I took a sip of the water I'd been served upon my arrival, trying to clear the nothing in my throat. It had become unexplainably dry in the past few minutes.

"It's nice to meet you Bella Swan. Would you mind passing me a menu?"

I realized in that moment that I'd been staring at him. I was only thankful to find that my mouth wasn't gaping open. "Of course."

"Have you eaten here before?" he inquired, making light conversation.

"Never." I examined my surroundings, really taking the place in for the first time.

"You say that like this wouldn't have been your first choice."

"It's like you read my mind."

"I've been known to read people fairly well."

I laughed out loud. I sure hoped he couldn't read me. I'd question the sanity of someone who chose to eat with a flustered woman acting like a hormonal teeny bopper.

"Oh really? Do you do magic tricks, too?"

His copper brow inclined, again, and a smirk settled upon his lips. He leaned forward and stretched over the table, placing his hand beside my head. For a second, I thought he might touch my cheek. I almost wanted him to. Almost.

"Abracadabra." His hand rested on the table and my ear swiftly felt weighed down by something. I reached for the unknown object and petals brushed against my finger tips. What felt like a carnation sat inside my hair.


	3. Query

**Prompt**: Elementary

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

I tried not to overreact. I tried to conduct myself like the mature adult. I tried to fight back the ridiculous and embarrassing blush that was more or less unavoidable.

I tried and failed. He chuckled. I blushed more and then scowled, unjustifiably.

It wasn't his fault that I became a plum over just about anything. He couldn't help the fact that he was gorgeous, smelled nice, and had nearly charmed the pants off of me in less than five minutes.

But it was too late. My self-inflicted frustration was spewing out and he'd be its next victim.

"Nice," I stated, in a less than generous tone.

He cleared his throat and then sat back in his seat. "What? You don't like carnations?"

"How'd you do that?"

"Just a little trick I picked up."

I searched the room. None of the tables had flowers on them. I couldn't remember any blossoms outside. Did he just keep a spare flower in his pocket, in case he happened upon a girl he wanted to dazzle? And, if so, how did he keep it looking so fresh?

It was white and entirely unblemished, much like my blouse before the tragic coffee incident earlier in the morning. The stem was cut short, as if it was intended as an accessory. And while I was vaguely aware that it shouldn't matter, that I should just be happy that this seemingly nice man wanted to do something sweet for me, I couldn't help but harp on the impossibility of it.

"Have you decided what you'd like to order?" The waitress had returned and broke my pointless concentration. I looked up from the small bloom and at Edward.

"Ladies first," he insisted.

"I'll just have the house salad."

"Are you sure? Someone treats you to lunch and all you choose is a salad."

I frowned, confused. "That's alright. I'm sure they can split the bill."

"But why should they? You saved me from a solitary lunch – one that you'd chosen to go without, mind you. So the least I can do is cover the tab."

"It's fine, really." I handed the menu back to the waitress, effectively ending the discussion. I was a big girl and could pay for my own meal. She glanced at him, inquiring if he was in agreement.

"As she wishes. I'll take the grilled salmon."

"Great choice."

When she'd left, I returned to my earlier focus. "So, are you going to tell me how you did that?"

"No."

"No?"

"No," he repeated. "I think we should learn a little more about each other before I tell you all of my secrets."

I bit my lip. Typically, this was a nervous habit of mine. But I wasn't nervous. Without saying or doing anything, really, Mr. Edward Cullen had successfully left me hot and bothered.

I was bothered because I was acting downright absurd. I knew I needed to be at work and instead I was here. I also knew that I most likely wasn't making a great first impression, but that wasn't changing my behavior. And I knew that this intense attraction to him was just as childish as my irritation over not knowing how he got the flower behind my ear.

I was swooning over a pretty boy. I was altering my norms, against my better judgment, because a gorgeous man with a seductive voice asked me to have lunch with him. He was sexy – and for all I knew a complete womanizer who did this every day – and all I wanted was for him to like me; something I was doing a better job of ensuring would not happen.

"Alright, then. Tell me something about yourself," I urged.

"Isn't it your turn?"

"How so?"

"I told you I read people well and I introduced myself first."

I sighed, loudly. I realized that I was pouting like I was still in elementary school, but I didn't really care. If he was some scum bag, determined to get me into bed, I'd figure that out before lunch was over.

"You asked me to eat with you, a complete stranger. I think it makes more sense for you to let me know who I agreed to have lunch with."

"You're a difficult one, aren't you?"

"If you mean I'm not easy, you're right."

This time, he choked on air. "That's not what I meant at all. I just mean you're feisty."

"Is that a problem?"

"No, it's not, actually. I like a challenge."


	4. Trade

**Prompt**: "He would take the secret to the grave."

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

"What do you do for a living?" I asked. He wasn't about to distract me with his charismatic wit.

I was Bella Swan: successful Marketing Manager at a renowned tech company, in San Francisco. I'd put myself through college and maintained a three point eight GPA. I'd interned every summer and was secretary of my school's business club. Even now, I was working toward my MBA, and had climbed my way through the ranks and past the glass ceiling of a predominantly male workforce.

I was in control. I'd always been this way and no over six foot, slender but firmly built man with a wicked crooked smile was going to change that.

"I'm a chef," he replied, nonchalantly. I wasn't sure exactly what I expected but, for some reason, that wasn't it. "Not here of course. Who wants to eat at their own restaurant every day?"

"So, you own a restaurant."

"Well, no. I'm the head chef but I'm in it purely for the food, not the business. I wouldn't be opposed to having my own place one day, but I'd probably need a partner for that."

"So the food must be pretty good here, for you to choose this location in particular." Maybe I should have gotten more than a salad, after all.

"Actually, I've never eaten here before. A friend recommended it to me so I thought I'd check it out. It's fairly new," he clarified. I wouldn't have known the difference. Most of my lunches were spent at my desk.

"Scoping out the competition?" I unintentionally moved in a bit closer, as if receiving the inside scoop on a highly classified mission.

He snickered, enjoying my teasing. "I don't know about that. It's just good to familiarize yourself with your surroundings."

"I guess that makes sense."

He continued, "Besides, even though to patrons it might feel otherwise, the community isn't very large. As they say, it's a small world. We get to know each other one way or another."

The reality wasn't as fun as my idea, but I liked that his intentions were good natured. "Oh. Well, that's nice."

"Now, can I know something about you?" What was there to know?

_…Workaholic by day, insomniac and worry wart by night._

"I work in marketing," I said, lamely. He frowned. Perhaps I wasn't what he expected, either. "I build the strategy for how my company will penetrate different markets and launch our brand as an innovative, growing business that cares about its customers."

"…Sounds interesting." His response didn't come off as sarcastic. He seemed to actually be intrigued. Though, why he would be was beyond me.

"It's not, unless you're into benchmarking, metrics, and return on investment."

"Don't you enjoy your job?"

Did I enjoy it? To be honest, I'd never really been asked the question before. It was as if I'd gotten on a path and had tunneled my way up the corporate latter without really thinking about whether or not it was where I wanted to be. Most days, I was so busy I hardly had time to consider if I'd had a good day.

Good days consisted of meeting deadlines, getting executive approval or buy in, and not having to put out too many fires. They were nothing like today. In fact, today was the opposite of a good day, or at least it had started out that way.

"It's alright."

"Just alright?" he pressed.

"It pays the bills and there are some challenging days that keep me on my toes," I elaborated.

"Let me get this straight. You build a company's marketing strategy and, at best, it's challenging _some _days. Why do it if you aren't passionate about it?"

"Why does anyone do any job? I've got to work. I do my job well. And what difference is it to you?" Knowingly, yet still uncontrollably, I was being defensive and anything but likable. Furthermore, I was starting to wonder if he was only sticking around out of guilt or because he had nothing better to do.

He smiled, compassionately. "I just wonder why an intelligent and fiery woman, such as yourself, would waste her talents in a place that didn't leave her delighted. Why settle? I doubt you of all people should need to."

It was evident that he wasn't trying to over step. For someone I couldn't even yet call a friend, he seemed to genuinely care. He was also, clearly being flirtatious. "How can you be so sure? You hardly know me."

"I read people well, remember? For someone so smart, that part doesn't seem to want to stick."

"Maybe I just have a hard time with make believe." I preferred this topic over the last. If I wanted to think about work, I'd be there, instead of sitting at an overly priced restaurant with an unfamiliar person.

"Nothing I've said or done has been for pretend. It's all real." Sure, he was being real but how much of it was sincere?

"Even the flower that came out of nowhere?"

"It's sitting in your hand. How much more factual can it get?"

"You can tell me how it got there."

"Learning how you earn your income hardly qualifies as enough for me to share my inner most secrets."

The more we talked, the clearer it became that he would take the secret to the grave.


	5. Seclusion

**Prompt**: "a stirring below."

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

"Do you always try out new restaurants alone? Or maybe you seek out girls sitting by themselves to dine with."

_In other words, where's your girlfriend? Or are you a different woman every night type of man?_

"Yes to the first and no to the second." He smirked at my snark and then enlightened me. "I'm around people all day and night, in the middle of an insane kitchen, at a near deafening volume. Sometimes it's nice to enjoy the quiet."

That didn't answer the question I'd really been posing. Then again, I didn't actually ask it, either. It was just hard to believe that such a striking individual wouldn't constantly be flocked by women.

"So you like to be alone."

"Sometimes. Doesn't everyone? You were alone."

"I wasn't supposed to be. I was stood up." My voice flattened at the irritating reminder of just how awful my day had been.

"Oh." He was obviously disappointed, as he sat further back in his chair and toyed with the silverware bundled in a white cloth. It wasn't the look of a man who'd simply move on to the next available fish in the sea. He looked as though he was trying not to seem too let down about a missed opportunity.

"That came out wrong. It's not how it sounds." Part of me was clearing up a misunderstanding, the same as I would if anyone had gotten the wrong idea. Though, I was beginning to accept that the greater part of me recognized an opportunity, as well. I just couldn't say if it was an opportunity I wanted or not.

"You don't have to explain yourself to me. It makes perfect sense that a beautiful woman wouldn't be spending the afternoon unaccompanied."

I was ever so grateful that he was still looking at the cutlery instead of at me. My face was so hot from flush that I could feel myself breaking a sweat. I didn't remember the last time someone had called me beautiful.

Though, who would have? Business partners? My boss? Customers taking online surveys about their level of satisfaction with our products? I hadn't really met anyone in years.

I decided to disregard his resignation and reassured him further. "It was more of an appointment than a lunch. I was supposed to be meeting a possible contractor but he cancelled in the last minute. I tend to show up early to things, so yeah…"

"Oh." This _oh_ held both optimism and what sounded a bit like embarrassment. I couldn't help but play into it, a little.

"For someone who reads people well, you read that one all wrong."

His mischievous leer was back at my ridicule. "I can admit that you're a bit harder for me to read than most. But, as I said, I like a challenge."

His voice was so sultry that I was having a hard time maintaining my composure. I wanted to challenge him. I wanted him to keep trying to figure me out. It was invigorating that he was so determined to.

I felt a stirring below and realized that a part of me that had lay dormant for I wasn't even sure how long was awakening, from this conversation alone. It was almost unnerving to think how much time had passed since I'd wanted a man in _that _way and that this one in particular was having such an effect on me. I'd nearly forgotten what it felt like to be turned on. It was as desirable as it was perturbing.

* * *

**A/N**: Sadly, I missed this deadline, but I had written quite a bit of it and decided to finish it out.


	6. Deliberation

**Prompt**: Alabaster

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

Our meal arrived and paused our conversation. I moved the leaves around in my plate, suddenly distracted and disinterested in food. This whole experience was different than I'd even imagine a first date to be like. It might have been better.

First dates are awkward. They're strange because you don't want to be there just as much as you do. Ideally, you know some things about the person you're out with. They're enticing to you and you're giving it a shot. However, it's like a trial run with very little experimentation. Things can really go either way. And that fact makes people do things that they wouldn't ordinarily do.

But this didn't have any of those stipulations. There were no expectations. There were no predictions. We were simply two people having lunch together because we happened to be in the same place at the same time.

And yet, it had all of the benefits of a date. I was meeting someone that intrigued me. He appeared to be interested in me, as well. And I owed him nothing. I could walk out of here in the next ten minutes and never see him again, without thinking twice about it, if I wanted to.

Still, therein also laid the problem. He could just as easily do the same. This should have been fine with me; except, for some reason, it wasn't.

The fact that I didn't know how much longer I had with him and that I hadn't learned everything I wanted to yet was nagging at me. What if I really never found out how the carnation got into my ear? …Or if he had a girl friend?

I wanted the freedom. I didn't want to be on a date. I wanted to be able to storm off if he said even one word that irritated me. And I wanted to be fine with the notion that he could do the same.

I didn't want to just throw myself at the first person I bothered to pay attention to, and that happened to do the same to me. I didn't want to let someone hypnotize me with their allure and good looks, to the point where I acted out of character. I wasn't even dating.

_And why aren't you dating, Bella? What's your excuse? What's been so great about your current tendencies? What benefits has maintaining this character had for you, so far? A potential promotion that's been dangled in front of you for months now with no guarantee… Is that what's making you hesitate about getting to know someone who's trying to get to know you?_

"What are you thinking about?"

I looked up from my plate and the warmth from before returned to my face. I was tempted to ask the waitress if she could turn up the air conditioner. These heat flashes were entirely inconvenient.

"Nothing in particular," I lied.

"Your blush implies otherwise." Maybe he was better at inferring things than I'd given him credit for. Or maybe I was just that obvious. "It's quite stunning."

"What is?"

"Your blush," he replied, as if it were plain. Then, he grinned and inched forward, as if sharing something confidential. "It complements the alabaster of your complexion wonderfully."

I was at a loss. I didn't have a clue what to say. The girl that scoffed at such admiration wasn't nearly as prominent as the one that wanted him to say more.

It wasn't as if I was fishing. It was just that each word of praise made me more confident that I had a little more time with him. If he really thought all of the things he was saying, he couldn't possibly be in a hurry to leave.

_Speak, Bella! …Before you offend him. What is it that people say when paid compliments?_

"Thank you."


	7. Prospect

**Prompt**: Celestial

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

"How's your salad?" Edward asked, perceptively saving me from my awkwardness.

"Fine." I answered too quickly. I couldn't actually say what it tasted like, but it was a water based vegetable with house dressing. How good could it be?

The left side of his mouth rounded into a coiled smile. "Have you even taken one bite?"

I stabbed some lettuce and shoved it into my mouth, chewing hastily. "Yes. How's the salmon?"

A chortle rumbled from deep in his chest as he answered. "Not bad."

Even through the laugh, he sounded indifferent. "Not bad like better than I expected and maybe I'll come here again or like I'm unconvinced but it's edible."

"I can see myself revisiting this place but it most likely wouldn't be for the fish. It tastes fine but I can't say I'm moved by it."

I didn't understand. "If you aren't impressed why would you come back?"

"Nostalgia." He simpered and took another bite of the mediocre entre.

What did he mean? He said he'd never been here before. How could he feel nostalgic at a place that held no memories?

…Unless he considered this something worth remembering. I could tell he liked me. He'd called me beautiful. But, did this mean something more to him, too? And when did it start meaning something to me?

"Is everything alright?" he interjected, halting my musing.

"It's fine. I'm sorry. It's just been a strange day."

"Would you like to tell me about it?"

_Sure, scare the handsome stranger away with all of your woes and puzzling. He's sure to want you, then. That sounds like a fabulous idea._

"Trust me, you don't want to know."

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know," he comforted.

"Why do you care?" I didn't say it in a way that was meant to be taken as harsh. I wasn't trying to say it was none of his business – which it wasn't, but that was beside the point. I wanted to know why he would be so concerned about someone he'd just met.

Was he always this way? Was he playing a role? Was it just me?

"I think there are too many reasons to list. You'll bore long before I finish."

I couldn't picture ever boring of hearing him speak. Not with his tone and the eloquent way that he spoke. And especially not with the unexpected but charismatic things he continued to say. Listening to his harmonious voice and gazing at his equally angelic features made sitting in what would otherwise be an ordinary restaurant seem almost celestial.

"Try me."

"Well – and this is in no particular order – you'd become a bit quiet and I can't get to know you if we aren't talking. I don't gather we have much time left, since you already stated that you'll need to return to work soon, and I'd rather not waste this chance. There are a number of expressions passing over you that suggest something multifaceted is being considered. Just watching is fascinating, so I can only imagine what's beneath those thoughts.

"Also, hopefully, sharing what's on your mind will help me to become better at interpreting more accurately, as we've established that I seem to be hit or miss in your regard. And quite frankly, if you've had a rough day, I think I like the idea of being a person that you can confide in, even if we have just met. How was that?"

Again, with only his words, he'd floored me. Any preconceived notions I might have had prior were immediately pushed out of the door. I realized he wouldn't be any easier for me to figure out than I was for him. I'd never done this before and he wasn't exactly playing easy, either. But I decided that it was something I needed to do. I had to know this man.

"Captivating," I nearly whispered, still a tad in shock.

"I'm glad. Now, will you tell me?"


	8. Concede

**Prompt**: Elevator

**Disclaimer**: Réconforter L'auberge is entirely made up. Please do not go searching for such a restaraunt in San Francisco because I have no idea of one exists. And if it does, it has no affiliation with this story, whatsoever. All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" he questioned, a bit cynical and enthused.

"Yes, maybe," I confirmed.

I believed that he wanted to get to know me – as I did him – and that he was engrossed, at least for the moment. I also believed that, for some reason, how I felt and what I thought mattered to him. But I wasn't convinced that actually giving in to my temptation and spilling my guts, after just thirty minutes of sporadic conversation, wouldn't send him running for the hills. I might be able to open up, perhaps even to him, but I couldn't bring myself to do it yet.

"What will it take for you to tell me what's on your mind?"

"I'm not sure." My voice was low and reticent.

Still, that was the honest truth. I didn't know how to do this. I had no idea how to even begin. It felt like it should be simpler – easier – than I was making it. Moreover, I didn't really know what was standing in my way.

Inexperience? I was nervous… scared to like someone and uncomfortable with being distracted from what had always been most important to me. But all of the sudden, I couldn't remember why I'd put such structure in the forefront of my life. What was I so afraid of?

I was beginning to wonder what he must think of me. I seemed so dramatic. So closed and untrusting.

It wasn't as if anything had ever been done to me. I'd never even suffered from a broken heart. But I'd watched so many women fall to pieces and struggle to pick themselves up, over some pointless relationship that added no value to their lives, that I just never even bothered.

If I was meant for love, or it for me, then it would happen after I created the life I wanted. I wouldn't be dependent on a relationship to get me through the day. I would find strength on my own and if I spent the rest of my years alone, at least I'd know I could be fulfilled within myself.

But it seemed that things hadn't exactly played out the way I'd expected. Sure, from a far, I was what anyone might consider successful. But whatever it was I was trying to fill felt bottomless, endless. No amount of accomplishment felt like it would ever be enough. And I'd never really been able to pinpoint exactly what was missing.

Economic status… Corporate level… Community involvement… As I sat here, with this man who was asking me questions I hadn't been asked in so long – how my day was and if I enjoyed my work – it became more and more lucid what the flaw in my life was.

I was lonely.

And now, I was worried about throwing myself at the first amiable party. For someone who'd been able to figure out how to achieve so much in her life, on her own, I didn't have the first clue about how to be vulnerable with someone without completely unraveling or coming on too strong. It seemed so effortless to hold back.

He shifted in his seat, parted his lips to speak, and then stopped himself. I inclined a brow, curious. A partial smile curled his sealed mouth, forcing a scoffed snicker through his nose, and he raked his fingers into his hair – hair that I now realized was full and silky.

It had highlights of gold and sunlit brown and gave the impression that no attempt was made to style it in any fashion. Though, the look wasn't one of messiness. It simply was what it was.

"What is it?" I asked. What could make Edward Cullen, who'd been confident and outspoken up until now, struggle with his words?

"I want to ask you something but I'm not sure what you'll say," he answered, quiet and uneasy.

"My reactions haven't deterred you this far. Why stop now?"

"You have a point." His half smile unfolded into a complete one.

"So?" I encouraged.

"You've hardly eaten your lunch and, based on your comment about your odd day, I'm going to go out on a limb and assume you missed breakfast, as well."

Where was he going with this? Did I lead him to believe I was anorexic or something? I felt like I'd already been so skeptical and guarded, this far, that I shouldn't vocally jump to conclusions. Instead, I answered truthfully, keeping with the new trend I'd started.

"Yes."

He nodded. "Have dinner with me."

"That's your question? Are you asking me on a date?" I asked because it wasn't at all what I expected and I needed a moment to absorb it. I also needed to be sure that I'd heard him right.

"Well, I guess that wasn't in the form of a question but, yes, I am asking if you'll go out with me tonight."

Blank. Void of words. An utterly vacant mind. That's what I had. "I don't know what to say."

"All you have to say is yes, and then take the elevator to the top floor at the _Réconforter L'auberge_. It's my restaurant. I'll introduce your palette to real cuisine."

_Do it, Bella. What have you got to lose?_

…_Everything. _

…_Nothing._

"Okay… Yes."


	9. Rendezvous

**Prompt**: Orange

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

There'd been an awkward goodbye as we parted ways outside of the restaurant entrance. We'd parked in opposite directions and I insisted that I could walk myself to the car. It just seemed that we were putting off the same inevitable send-off and that we should get it over with. Knowing I'd be seeing him again in a handful of hours left me a little less desperate for another minute and a half with him, but only a little.

It'd taken everything in me to not celebrate like a five year old when I'd entered the security of my car. It took even more than that to maintain any resemblance of focus when back at my desk. About a quarters way through attempting to finish out the remainder of the work day, in an Edward Cullen induced haze, I'd given up.

The first half of the day had been more or less a wash with the only worthwhile part of it being meeting him. He'd turned everything around in less time than it had taken to become so disastrous, which was virtually impossible. It was always harder to fix things that were broken, when the damage took almost nothing. Edward was like a bright light at the end of my overcast filled tunnel and I decided that waiting for him did not need to happen in the place that had clouded me for so long in the first place.

It was strange seeing my apartment so early, with light still filling the space. Normally, I worked at least a couple of overtime hours each day. And on days like today, where I'd lost time and taken a lunch, seeing this place before dark was just unheard of.

I chose not to bog myself down with any further self analysis and to just try to have fun, for one night. That was, of course, easier said than done. Once I looked in the mirror and saw what I'd been wearing all day, I couldn't fathom what this man possibly saw in me. The loose fitting beige conglomerate t-shit and messy bun was anything but appealing. And dressing more appropriately this evening didn't seem as if it'd be any easier.

Most of my attire consisted of business suits and casual wear. I had a few gowns from company holiday parties and such but nothing that felt... _sexy_? If I was being straight with myself, I simply didn't know what to wear on a date.

I pulled out the one little black dress that every woman should own and made a mental note to accept my fate and shop in the near future. My dryer was still broken and hair wasn't going to be much nicer to me than anything or one besides Edward had been, today. So, I pinned it up into a loose wrap and swept the few tendrils that fell forward behind my ears. A little mascara and lipstick and I was done. In reality, just that bit seemed to make quite a difference when compared with my earlier fashion statement. It was good enough.

He'd asked me to meet him at seven. Even though I'd left work early, the time to drive home, get dressed, drive to the location, and then find parking – which was never an easy thing to do in San Francisco – only spared me fifteen minutes upon my arrival. I sat in my car for five of them, giving myself a mental pep talk.

_Relax. This will be fun._

_He's kind, interesting, gorgeous, and he likes you. Don't be an ass to him._

_Just go with the flow. You don't need a five year plan for this. _

_Breathe. Relax. Have fun._

_Stop being a loser who's never been on a date and get the hell out of the car._

I followed his instructions and went to the top floor of the hotel, which was also the restaurant. I met the hostess, Rosalie according to her tag, and gave her my name. Her brow twitched and she half smirked, unamused, but asked me to follow her.

I was lead to the restaurant's balcony, which was deserted except for one table surrounded by the several heated torches. It was dressed in black linens with two Champaign glasses and the same number of place settings. It looked like something out of a romantic comedy.

"Hello," a smooth masculine voice cooed from behind me. Normally, such unexpectedness would have caused me to startle and jump. However, all his tenor did was calm me.

He was so close that I could feel his warmth seeping onto my back. The fine hair along my skin stood on edge and reached in his direction. The temptation to lean back and close the likely small gap was nearly irresistible.

"Hi," I said, after a possibly too long passage of time. My voice was low and slightly timid. I couldn't believe my eyes. "Is this all of this for me?"

Edward took my hand and pulled me around so that I was facing him. He beamed almost as brightly as the orange glow of fire blazing from the sun setting around us. And my hand burned almost as intensely at the feel of his joined with it. I'd never wanted to touch someone, or to be touched, so badly. The miniscule gratification seemed to only ignite my need for more.

"Do you like it?" I nodded, fearful that my words would fail me or get caught in my throat. "Before we sit at yet another table, I thought maybe you'd like to see my kitchen." Then he escorted me back inside, still holding my hand.


	10. Exhibition

**Prompt**: "I could hear the muffled sounds of…"

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

Immediately upon entering through the black double doors with fish bowl windows, I heard a loud clatter of what were probably pots and pans to my right. Just after, I high pitched, almost jingling voice called out something in another language and a blonde man rushed past me to assist her. While everything within the kitchen walls stirred at a palpable intensity, the motions were fluid, as if they were choreographed. It was overwhelming but quite beautiful all the same.

I watched a rainbow of vegetables fly through the air as someone sautéed them. A trout was sliced into virtually perfect fractions, exhibiting the complementing grey and pink. And a gorgeous bouquet of fruit was carefully being placed around a dollop of vanilla ice cream, decorating the dessert.

It was noisy, but the sounds blended together in a hum that drowned into near silence. There were simply so many reverberations at once that no singular clamor was distinguishable. I remembered his explanation of solitude and finally understood. One could easily get lost in the intensity of sound bouncing around the industrial space of silver hardware with white drywall. Eventually, they'd find themselves exhausted by it. The quiet and calm that existed just on the other side of the doors might seem like a generous reprieve.

We stopped in front of an empty aluminum counter top and Edward turned me to him, once more. "This is my kitchen."

I peered around, as if I hadn't been watching this whole time. Every time I looked, I saw something new, so the feeling mimicked the impression. "It's kind of nuts in here."

"I know."

"But it's also sort of wonderful."

"Precisely. That's one of the reasons I love it. Now let me show you another. Alice?" For all of the echoing resonance, he spoke at a volume that might be considered conversational, even when calling the girl's name.

"Hi Edward," the ringing voice from earlier greeted. Before us stood a petite brunette with a smile and light in her eyes that implied she had never experienced a sad day in her life. Even if it weren't true, I envied the joy that seeped from her and felt myself instantly drawn to it.

"Hi, Alice. This is Bella. Can you bring her the _Prawns Bordelaise_?"

"Sure. It's nice to meet you, Bella." She bounced off before I could respond and then Edward looked back to me.

"Would you like a menu?"

"From the kitchen?" I asked. Something told me this was nothing like a traditional date.

"I'm going to cook your meal and I thought you might like to watch. While I trust any of my team to cook something exquisite for you, I'd like to ensure the quality of this first one."

"Why don't you surprise me? I trust you." The words rang more true than I might have expected.

I did feel a certain, strange level of trust for the man I barely knew. Something in his eyes promised sincerity and devotion. Perhaps it was simply his requisite for passion in his life that lead me to believe he wouldn't do anything that he didn't feel really strongly about and would avoid things that left him faint at heart.

His smile conveyed that he appreciated the gesture. "Alright. Let's keep it simple tonight, then. How's _Chicken Piccatta_ sound?"

My stomach rumbled in the same moment his words reached my ears. "That sounds delicious, actually."

"Perfect timing," Edward praised. Alice had returned with a saucer containing a lobster patty, two large shrimp, and what smelled like lemon sauce. She sat it on the counter in front of me.

"Isn't it always?" she retorted, with a chirp. "And I started the noodles for you."

"Yes, Alice, you're always right on time. And thank you." She gleamed and then sprung away, once more.

"She seems nice."

"I like her. Alice is my sister and assistant chef. She keeps everyone in line around here." I chuckled, having a hard time believing that such a bubbly personality could command a room. He must have guessed as much. "Don't let her appearance fool you. You don't want to mess with Alice."

"I'll take your word for it."

Edward scooped some of the appetizer into the plate's accompanying fork. "That would be wise. Now, how about a sample?"

He placed the fork just outside of my lips. I automatically parted them and inched forward. I closed my mouth around the utensil and my eyes shut, allowing me to focus on the flavor.

He slid the fork away and waited for me to respond. I chewed, savoring the spices simmering along my tongue, and then swallowed. When I opened my eyes, I found he'd moved closer to me. I could hear the muffled sounds of people shuffling around but the moment still managed to feel private, as if it were just the two of us.

"That was amazing," I whispered, knowing he could hear me, given his proximity.

He grinned. "Wait until you taste the rest."

* * *

**A/N:** I haven't really done notes for these but I wanted to say thanks for all of support you've shown me and this project. It's helped keep me motivated to write each day. And a special thank you to **BriannaMarley** for following this so closely and creating a thread for it on Twilighted. I encourage everyone to check it out. I'll post any inspiration/teasers/research I happen to do there.

**Twilighted Thread**: http://www(dot)twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=7667&start=0&st=0&sk=t&sd=a

Remember to replace the "(dot)" with a period.


	11. Gastronomy

**Prompt: **Chapped Lips

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

"Will you be feeding me everything, tonight?" I returned from my food slumber and met a pair of sparkling emeralds peering back at me.

_You slut! Where the hell did that come from?_

_Oh lighten up. You said you'd have fun. _

"I definitely wouldn't be opposed." Edward looked down to my lips, as I licked a bit of the lemon sauce away, and then grinned before returning his gaze to my eyes. "Why don't we go to the stove?"

He about faced, I took a deep breath, and then followed him to a large industrial looking cook top. A bunch of items were prepared for him and he went to work pulling them together in a sauté pan.

"I cook a little, too. Or, at least, I used to," I offered.

Most of my dinners consisted of Caesar Salads and lunches were whatever they had premade at the office café. Breakfast was usually a piece of fruit or packaged oatmeal. I only ate anything with taste over the weekends when I forced myself to walk away from the computer long enough to cook a meal. But even that was either baked chicken or tacos.

"Is that so?" He wanted to hear more. This was the first thing I'd volunteered about myself, without him asking. He was showing me a bit of his life and I figured I could do the same.

"I'm no chef…" I paused to glance at his effortless handy work over the entrée. "My mom's an experimental cook. When I was growing up, she made a lot of disasters. Eventually, I took over dinner."

"Maybe you'll cook for _me_ some time."

"Who cooks for a chef unless they want to make an ass out of themselves?"

"I can't imagine you doing such a thing and do you really think so little of me? …That'd I'd be judgmental?" He was only half serious, by the arch in his brow.

"I don't know what to think of you," I mused, audibly. There was no harshness in my words or pitch. If anything, there was a combination of marvel and disbelief, but only because he seemed like something I'd imagined up.

After all of the years I'd spent alone – more or less oblivious to men altogether – how could the first man I'd paid any attention to turn out so picturesque? Edward was lively, intelligent, caring, and good looking (that was an understatement). There had to be a flaw. Some big, blaring, impossible to miss or ignore defect. He had to be a drunk, murderer, or at least a complete asshole, right?

_God I hope not. Please be perfect. I really, really want you to be perfect. Or at least sort of perfect. I'll settle for sort of. _

He shoveled the pasta into two plates and picked them up. "Well, let's see what we can do to fix that. Shall we?"

His smile was wide and forthcoming. He wasn't at all discouraged. I felt my unnecessarily icy exterior melt a little with each peek at his pearly whites. The slight nervous inducing nausea I'd been trying to bat down since he'd asked me out would also flair up every time I considered that I might actually be able to fall for the must-be-monster.

While trailing him to the table, I thought of the many ways this night could go. He could finally decide I was the bitch he'd probably pegged me for and give up trying to break me down. I could become the fumbling mess externally that I was within and start swooning aloud, effectively scaring him away from the potential groupie. And, best case scenario, he could walk me to the car at the end of the night, ask for my number, and promise to call.

Would he actually call? Would he try to kiss me? Did I even remember how to kiss?

I was in the middle of trying to remember the last time I'd participated in a kiss and worrying over chapped lips when he stopped in front of me and I ran into him. I stumbled back a few steps and he'd somehow set the plates down, pivoted, and grabbed my hand before I could completely fall backward. In the effort to reverse my plummet and steady me, he'd pulled me into him and wrapped his other arm around me. We were almost an exact replica of how we'd been before lunch.

"Are you alright?" He was so close that I could feel his warm breath on my face. It smelled of cinnamon and ginger. I actually wanted to taste it, as if he were a pastry of some sort.

This time I wasn't really worried about embarrassment or awkwardness. I was only very aware our proximity because I wasn't repelled by it. Edward was firm, yet comfortable. I was almost saddened by the notion that he'd likely let me go, soon.

"I'm okay," I replied in a bit of a sigh.

He didn't loosen his hold. "We have to stop meeting this way. I'd prefer if you weren't about to fall over every time I held you."


	12. Inelegance

**Prompt**: "That's what I tried to tell you!"

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

Beet red. Or cocktail cherry red. Maybe even flaming red. Between Edward holding me and saying those words, I had to be one of those shades.

He freed my hand but not me and brought his up to the side of my face. I held my breath, trying not to react. I didn't know what I expected to happen but something in me wanted to wait and find out.

He delicately pinched a strand of hair that hand fallen into my face during my trip between is index and thumb finger and placed it behind my ear. He held it there for a few seconds and then apparently made a decision. He ever so gently trailed the path from ear to cheek with the back of his pointer before dropping his hand to his side.

"I've wanted to do that all day," he informed, softly.

Was it too soon for that? Should I have pushed him away and screamed at him? Should I have told him to get the hell off of me?

I didn't know the answers to any of those questions. Nor could I say how long we'd stood that way. All I did know for sure was that my skin tingled in the place where he'd touched it and I missed the sensation immediately.

Purely from the need for oxygen that my body demanded, I sighed out the breath I'd forgotten I was holding, chocking on it. He pulled back and clasped my shoulders, keeping me upright while I cleared my strangled throat. This was exactly the fumbling mess I feared I'd turn into.

"Bella—"

"I'm fine," I coughed out, "really. Can I just have some water?"

"Of course."

He turned away and I gasped for air, trying to calm myself. This was absolutely ridiculous. What a mess? He handed me the water and I gulped it down, as desperate for hydration as I was a moment for self collection.

"Thank you," I said into the glass.

"Maybe you should have a seat." He walked over to my chair and pulled it out for me. I sat – almost plopped – and like before, he pushed me in. "I'm sorry if that was—"

"NO! I mean, really… It wasn't you." I didn't even know how to explain what just happened. "I'm just a mess," I stated, honestly.

"You're like a magnet for trouble," he joked.

"That's what I tried to tell you! It's almost no use. I'm not sure you should even bother continuing trying to save me." I was glad he directed the conversation away from my fluster over him touching me and to my clumsiness. For once, that felt like an easier topic.

"What if I like saving you?"

He'd never see my natural complexion again if he didn't stop this, soon. But I guess that's the point of dating. He was supposed to knock me off of my feet, right?

"If you like wasted effort, by all means…" I grimaced and then tried to move on before I said something even more stupid. "This looks wonderful."

"Thank you. Why don't you give it a try?"

I swirled some of the pasta into my fork and stabbed a shred of chicken. Then, I carefully placed it into my mouth, while he watched me. I prayed I was accomplishing this gracefully, given my involved audience.

When the noodles hit my tongue, I involuntarily moaned out loud at the taste. I chewed rapidly and shoved the fork back into the dish to scoop up more. Not only was I starving nearly out of my mind, this was possibly the best thing I'd eaten in months.

"Good?" he asked.

"Oh God, yes!" I vaguely realized that the phrases and sounds I was using might resemble something requiring a few less clothes and an enclosed space, but I could hardly help myself. I looked over at him, suddenly self conscious about my behavior and saw something I hadn't before.

He still wore the same enthralled and awe struck expression, but this time _he_ was blushing. I couldn't help but wonder why. Was he embarrassed by my visible and vocal enjoyment? Did he not receive compliments so well, either? Or…was it possible that...did he like these noises coming from me? He rubbed a hand over his face a few times and then pulled at his hair.

"Is everything alright?" I questioned.

"It's great." He dug into his food, then, but I wasn't going to let him off of the hook so easily.

"What is it?"

"Have I told you how lovely you look tonight?"

And then came the blush, again. "No, and thank you, but I don't think that was the answer to my question."

"Well, it was, sort of. It's just been a while…" I lifted a brow, willing him to continue. I wasn't even going to attempt at guessing where he was headed with that. "…since I met a beautiful woman who was so magnetic and authentic. To be honest, I haven't been on a date in a long time."

Utterly flabbergasted. I was in complete disbelief. How in the world could that be possible?

He smirked, discomfited. That wasn't how I meant for him to feel. So, I offered him the same truth he had me.

"Me either."

He smiled with relief, grabbed his glass, and brought it toward the center of the table. "A toast to us, then."

"To us."


	13. Correlate

**Prompt: **Inadequate

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

"So, how is this possible, Mr. Edward Cullen?"

"How is what possible?"

"That you're unclaimed," I clarified.

"Is it really so hard to believe?" he teased.

"Yes." I was full of conviction. He tugged his thick, unruly hair back and then shoved some food into his mouth. After, he swallowed and cleared his throat.

"Was that a veiled compliment from Bella Swan?"

"Oh please. Like you don't know you're gorgeous." I scoffed, skeptically. In dark denim and a long sleeved black shirt, Edward somehow out shined most of the men in this restaurant. Only those dressed in suits could even come close. With his elbow propped onto the table, he rested his chin in his palm and gazed at me.

"Do you know that you're gorgeous?" His voice was low and seductive. I choked again, for no apparent reason. How did he keep catching me off guard like this?

"What?"

"You claim I'm attractive and that I should be aware of it but you don't seem to be too in tune with your own beauty. Besides, even if I've been told I'm not a beast to look at in the past, what would make me so sure of my appeal to you?" he elaborated. I was still a bit strangled and gulped down water to mitigate my reaction.

"I guess I see what you mean," I said, strained.

"While taking a girl's breath away is typically supposed to be a good thing, I'm a bit worried that you may pass out at the rate you're going."

"My breathing has been highly inadequate, tonight. That's for sure."

"Maybe I should take it easier on you." He looked down, frowning. Was he actually beginning to feel dispirited?

I unthinkingly placed my hand atop the one of his that rested on the table. "Please don't."

I swept my fingers over his soft but defined knuckles, hoping that he understood. It was true that he'd been driving this, but I wasn't simply being towed along. I wanted to be here, too. He flipped his hand over and captured my fingers. Then he slid his thumb over them and smiled.

"You never answered my question," I reminded.

"About me being single? I wouldn't be surprised if my reason wasn't much different than yours."

"Oh? And what's that?"

"Workoholic," he stated, matter-of-factly.

"I'm one or you're one?" I asked, confused.

"We both are." He squeezed my hand, reassuringly.

Goodness, had he ever called it. He saw right through me. But I was surprised to hear the same went for him. He seemed too lively for someone that worked all of the time.

"Looks like your people reading skills are working, again."

"Or maybe it just takes one to know one."

"So, you say it's been a long time… When was your last relationship?" If we were going to do this, we may as well just do it.

_Let's get to know each other! ...Get some tough conversations out of the way._

While still holding my right hand with his left, he went back to eating with his other. "A few years. Alice has tried to fix me up here and there but it just never worked out."

"I see." I attempted to clumsily eat with my left hand, not wanting to let go of his.

"And you?"

"I dated a guy for a little while in college. We broke up my sophomore year. He was nice and I doubt he ever would have hurt me. But, to be totally honest, I guess I was just sort of bored. I'll bet he would have married me if he could have but I was much too focused to think about things like that back then."

_Way to ramble, Bella. You go from tight lipped to open season in one night. _

"What a loss," he said under his breath. "And now?"

"Now, what?"

"How do you feel about settling down?" I sighed, a bit too loudly. "My apologies if I'm prying."

"No! It's okay. I don't mind. It's just that I haven't really thought about these things in a while. And no one's asked me about them in longer."

"So…"

"So, I suppose I never used to see myself as the marrying type. It's just not something I've been able to picture. But I'm not opposed to it. It's got to be better than being alone."

"I think it can be…with the right person."

"Let's hope." I took another bite of my pasta, which was getting a tad cold. "What about you?"

"How do I feel about marriage?"

"Yeah."

Once more, his hand went into his hair and his eyes dropped from my line of sight. I was learning that this was nervous habit for him. When he looked back to me, he appeared just a little pleading. Then he squeezed my hand again.

"The short answer is that I'm an advocate. The long answer is just that, longer. And I'm not totally sure it's appropriate first date material."

I bit my lip, unsure of what that could mean. Still, something told me that coming from him, it couldn't be anything too bad. And I'd mentally committed to getting to know him. I squeezed his hand back.

"Hey, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. But, I'm not in any hurry. I've got no where else to be, tonight."

"There's nothing I don't want to tell you." Calm settled over him as he played with my fingers.

"I'm glad. The same goes for me."


	14. Memoir

"Did you two want anything else?" The tall, curvy, blonde hostess whose name sounded sweeter than her tone approached the table.

"Bella, would you like anything? …Dessert, maybe?"

"I don't know if I should…" I wasn't one for diets – they weren't totally necessary – but I did try to choose healthier forms of consumption.

"What if we shared?" he proposed.

I liked the sound of that. "What did you have in mind?"

"Do you like chocolate?" he asked.

Didn't every girl? It had to be a written rule somewhere. "What do you think?"

With a half twist at the corner of his mouth, he placed our order. "We'll have the _Chocolate Decadence_. Thank you, Rosalie."

She turned and walked away without another word. I frowned as I watched her depart, confused. "She seats and waits?"

He snickered. "No. She's just being nosy. But if she wants to work, who am I to argue?"

"Oh. She doesn't seem to like me very much."

"Don't take it personally. Rosalie doesn't like anyone very much. She's not easy to impress. But she's very protective of those she cares about, hence the nosiness."

"I see." This was obviously a very close group of people, for the hostess to be concerned about the chef and his sister to be second in command. It almost made me feel like I'd been brought on the inside, just by being with Edward. I was excited to learn more. "So, you were saying?" I prompted.

He grimaced. "Where to begin…?"

"Anywhere you like is fine," I assured. He took a sip of his champaign and I understood that whatever he was about to say wouldn't exactly be easy for him.

"I've been married before. Tanya and I divorced about three years ago." He traced the rim of the glass with his index finger, focusing on the course he was following instead of looking at me. "We met at Dartmouth, married not long after graduation, and separated just two years later. From a far, we appeared to fit well together but we were very different people. She wanted things that I couldn't give her. And in the end, she walked away."

"I'm sorry." I didn't know what else to say. It was hard to picture anyone leaving him. What could cause someone to do so? Could it have been that bad?

"Don't be. I'm not. We simply weren't meant to be. Moreover, I'm happier now. And as far as her leaving me goes, it was only a matter of time before one of us made a move."

"Still. It must have been just awful." I could easily remember my mother and father's divorce. Renee and Charlie were anything but meant for one another. And while they managed to retain some semblance of civility, things were very rocky in the beginning. Of course, having a child to share didn't make anything simpler.

"To be honest, I mostly remember feeling disappointed that I couldn't be more for her. I'm not even sure if we were ever truly in love. For a long time, I felt absolutely inept. She deserved better.

"I cared for her, certainly. We'd spent a lot of time together – knew each other well – and were great friends. But, at some point, I started to feel that it was more comfort or convenience that we'd settled for over anything else."

"If you don't mind…" I suddenly felt like I was asking too much. He'd already shared far more with me than anyone on a first date should have to.

He looked up, then. "I don't mind. Ask me anything. I won't lie and say that this is effortless, but it's been a long time and it feels good to talk about it."

"Well, what was so different? I mean, you say you couldn't give her what she wanted."

"That's truly a longer story but the short version is that Tanya is a woman of status. She wanted to be the socialite wife of an elite and prosperous business man. My father and mother lived that life and still do; hers, as well. She wanted children and committee meetings... I just couldn't make myself abide by that life style."

Even though I hadn't actually been through what Edward had, it wasn't hard to relate to his situation. I grasped that there was still a great deal I didn't know, but just having that piece of him only seemed to draw me closer. "So, you moved to San Francisco and became a chef."

"More or less."

"That was brave of you," I commended. He replaced his hand upon mine and smiled at me, in appreciation. "What made you choose here, of all places?"

"Mild climate," he ribbed. I laughed at the common and simple reason that brought so many people to California. "Really, it was just the opposite of everything I'd been around, even down to the coast."

"Did you come here right after?"

"Shortly."

I decided it was time for a lighter topic. "So, it's been about three years. What do you think of good old San Francisco?"

"Naturally, I miss the rest of my family, but otherwise there's plenty to love. Though, I have to say my favorite thing has been going to Giants games."

"You're a Giants fan?"

"I wouldn't say that. They're a fine team, but mostly I enjoy the sea salt in the air and watching a good game." Yet another completely unpredictable nugget about Edward Cullen. What would he say next?

"I have to admit, I've never really been into sports," I said, sheepishly.

"Well, that's just because you've never been to a game with me."


	15. Extraordinary

**A/N: **This is rare, so please bear with me. I ask that you forgive me if I've described anything here inaccurately, in any way. I've tried to bring over a bit of book Bella and Edward into this story. But, it's fiction and my interpretations, so there may have been a liberty or two taken.

Also, I'd like to know your thoughts on Edward and Bella potentially kissing on the first date. So, I have a poll on my profile. PLEASE TAKE IT! Thanks!

**Prompt: **"old habits die hard"

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

"Your turn."

"To do what?"

"Tell me something you like," Edward spelled out.

"Oh. Hmmm. _Wuthering Heights_."

"You can't be serious. I doubt there are two other printed characters with fewer redeeming qualities."

"But isn't that the point? They love each other in spite of that. Maybe even more for it. That's what redeems them."

"I wouldn't have pegged you for a hopeless romantic." A deep laugh thundered from the hollow of his ribs.

"Never judge a woman by her choice of fiction. Besides, I thought it'd be better than _Romeo and Juliet_," I defended.

"Goodness, those two are almost as bad. I mean, I get not wanting to live in a world where the love of your life doesn't exist, but Romeo… Talk about a blunder prince. I don't know who bothers me more: him or Heathcliff." He sighed in disappointment.

"Alright, alright. Enough bashing of my storybook crushes. What's your favorite, Mr. I stick my nose up at classic literature?"

"Hey, I like my fair share of the classics."

"Oh do you? It sure doesn't sound like it, masterpiece hater."

"Nice." He laughed harder. "Yes, I do like good literature. But if I had to pick a Shakespearean work, I'd at least go with _The Merchant of Venice_."

"Ah, a good old strategic out-witting. I guess that's not surprising."

"Precisely. I also thoroughly enjoy Poe."

"Seriously? Seems a little woe-is-me for someone like you."

"Someone like me?" he questioned.

"You're just so… I don't know. You appear to be content with life," I explained

"Even if I choose to make the best of my circumstances, I can still enjoy a good piece of angst or a bit of heart break.

"_But our love it was stronger by far than the love__  
Of those who were older than we-__  
Of many far wiser than we-__  
And neither the angels in heaven above,__  
Nor the demons down under the sea,__  
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul__  
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee._"

As if reading from a page, Edward had perfectly recited several exquisitely tragic stanzas from one of the most beautiful poems of Edgar Allen Poe's works. I felt myself tingle in places I didn't realize were possible. My heart thumped without warrant. And my mouth may have very well been hanging open.

I called upon whatever reminisces of control I had left and forced myself to speak. Still, it came out horse and toneless. "Wow."

In timing that couldn't have been any more ideal, Alice advanced upon our table. "You'll have to forgive my family, this evening. I guess they're a bit excited."

I grunted, hoping my voice would dig itself up from my stomach. "I think it's kind of sweet, actually."

"One _Chocolate Decadence_, prepared by moi!" Alice chimed.

"Thank you, Alice. It's kind of you to step down from your role as chef to help the wait staff," Edward mocked.

"I try to do what I can when I can! Let me know if you need anything else!" She spun around and practically skipped off.

"I really like her. She seems like she can be a handful at times, but I can't imagine there ever being a dull day with her around," I observed. He took the fork and cut into the torte, swirling it in a bit of the raspberry sauce encircling it.

"She is a firecracker. Now, you're going to love this." He held the prongs up, in front of my mouth, as if this was something he'd done with me a thousand times.

He watched my lips as I took the bite and grinned, almost painfully. I wasn't sure I could take much more of his unintentional seduction. Furthermore, he was right. The dark chocolate and sweet berry was absolutely delectable.

"You're killing me," I declared. My statement held more meaning then he'd ever know. "If I ate like this every day, you'd have to roll me around in a wheel barrel within a month. And speaking of, do you feed all of the women you date?"

"We've already determined that I don't really date much. And no; only you." He held another forkful up to my mouth and I didn't hesitate to acquire it. "Will you go out with me, again?"

He truly was trying to kill me. After every other unexpected thing he'd done tonight resulted in some gasping cataclysm, did he really just ask me out while I was trying to chew? Perhaps he was a murder – homicides by shocking the life out of women.

I took my time and swallowed, ensuring that all breathing and speaking organs were properly functioning. I cleared my throat, just to be safe. Then, I closed my eyes, attempting to reel in any over excitement that might cause me to turn red, before reopening them and answering.

"I'd love to, but you should know that what you just did right there was very dangerous. I'm starting to think you like leaving me flustered."

"Maybe. As I said earlier, I do quite enjoy your blush. I guess old habits die hard."


	16. Valediction

**Prompt: **Smoke

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

"Are you cold?"

I'd unconsciously crossed my arms in front of my chest but was still leaning inward, toward the table. I looked over my exposed skin, at the trail of goose bumps rising to the surface. I hadn't even noticed until he'd pointed it out.

"Huh. I guess I am. I left my coat in the car. It was warmer when I got here," I replied.

"Did you park far?"

"Not really. Maybe five minutes away."

"We should probably head over, then. I don't want you getting sick because of me."

I pouted a little before fighting back a traitor shiver and nodding in agreement. I wasn't ready for the night to end. Not only was I actually having fun, but I felt like we were barely breaking ground. There was still so much to say and learn.

Even more, this was the part of the night I'd been fretting over. What was the appropriate procedure when saying goodnight to a relative stranger, on the first date? Do you wave? Shake hands? Hug? Should I give him my business card? Would he pass me his number on a napkin?

As we walked through the back entrance, into the restaurant, I saw the tall, wavy blond and petite, spiky, brunette standing outside of the kitchen doors. Rosalie glanced over, from the corner of her eye, and quickly returned to whatever fascinating conversation she was having. However, Alice looked right at me with a wide smile, as if I was more important than whatever else she had going on.

"Goodnight Bella. It was great meeting you."

I couldn't recall having said a single word to her, tonight. Was that possible? "Bye, Alice. It was nice to meet you, too."

I glanced around the large space and was a little surprised by its occupancy level. The majority of the tables were empty. I gathered that Mondays might be slower than the weekends but still found the low number a little strange.

Then I took a glimpse at my watch and realized it was after nine. Had it really been over two hours? It felt like I'd just gotten here.

"Put this on." Edward stepped into my line of site with a black leather jacket. He held it in front of me so that I could slide my arms through.

"Thanks."

As the pelt settled onto my torso, a wave of his sent fell over me. I was tempted to bury my face in the material and inhale deep, but I thought that might be a little much. So instead, I sighed, trying to pass the act off as casual. Just that bit was overwhelming enough to send chills up my spine, negating the benefits of the additional layer when my pores prickled all over again.

"After you," he presented. Edward held the main door open for me as I exited. "So, what more do you think we can learn about each other in the next five minutes?"

I smiled to myself, glad that we seemed to be on the same page for this topic. "Speed dating one oh one?"

He laughed. "I've never been speed dating, but sure."

"Well, I haven't either. So let's just make it up."

"Alright. That actually sounds kind of fun," he acquiesced.

"Great. Age?"

"Twenty-eight," he answered. "You?"

"Twenty-five. I'll be twenty six this September."

"My birthday was this past June," Edward volunteered. "Major and/or minor in college?"

"I went to Washington University, to be closer to my dad. Majored in Marketing and minored in English Literature."

"Surprise, surprise. I double majored in Economics and Music. And, since I'm sure you're wondering, I went to culinary school after graduation, for fun."

He shoved his hands in his pockets and I was a little disappointed to know I probably wouldn't get another chance to touch him tonight. To rid myself of the stinging in my empty palm, I mimicked him and put my hands in his jacket pockets.

Subsequently, I pushed forward. "Who knew it'd work out for you so well? What kind of music did you study?"

"Well, I've been playing the piano since I was very young. I'm classically trained. So I was in the honors program for music theory. It all sounds so awful, when told this way."

"No. I asked and I think it's amazing."

"Siblings?" He changed the subject, with a snigger.

"None. You, besides Alice?"

"There's just Alice. Rosalie is my cousin."

I saddened a tad more when we stopped at my truck. "This is me. So, I guess that's it for now."

"It looks that way. When would you be able to go out next?"

We were doing this here? Now?! I sighed and pulled out my trusty blackberry, purely from habit. I couldn't tell you what my next hour looked like without it.

I unlocked the device, began scrolling to its calendar, trying to ignore the blinking messages, and then stopped. I was done living by what my job decided I was available for. "You know what? Tomorrow's good, if you're free."

"Tomorrow is perfect." Even in the dark of the night, lit only by dim streetlights and a hidden moon, I could tell he was glowing. "Do you mind?"

He reached his hand out, asking for my phone. I sat it in his palm, curious to find out his intentions. He typed something into it and passed it back to me.

"What's this?" He hadn't stored anything. He'd only typed in numbers.

"My cell, silly. Text me your address, tomorrow. I'll pick you up at six." He reached for my hand, raised it to his lips, and pressed them to it. A war broke out in my stomach, immediately after. "Thanks for tonight, Bella. It was wonderful."

Then he turned, to disappear into the smoke like fog created by the bay at night. I watched him, slowly vanishing. When he was finally too far to see, I began to panic, as though there was something I'd forgotten.

"Edward, wait," I called into the silence. I hadn't even said goodbye. He'd left so quickly, I didn't get to say anything before he was gone.

I looked at my phone, considering calling him. But what would I even say? I saved the number under _EC_, before something could erase it and it was too late – just like my delayed beckon. I didn't know if I'd have courage enough to go back to the restaurant if something had happened to the number.

"Bella?" I looked up from my phone and saw Edward not more than a foot in front of me. He'd come back! "Did I hear you call for me?"

"Yes." Now that he was here, I couldn't remember what it was I wanted to say.

"Is everything alright?"

"It's fine. I'm sorry. I just… You left so fast. I didn't even say goodnight to you, or that I had a good time, or thank you."

He grinned. "Truly, the pleasure was all mine but I am glad that you enjoyed yourself."

"I did. Really." I looked down, disappointed that I didn't have something more valuable to offer.

"Bella… I'd like to try something." I peeked back up to him then.

His thumb swept over the line of my jaw and he lightly claimed my chin with it and his pointer. He gradually drew me to him, while easing frontward and closing the small space between us.

The so called war in my stomach from moments ago was nothing compared to the uproar that occurred once I realized what was happening. Part of me was nervous as hell. What if I was awful at this, from being so out of practice? What if I didn't return the right amount of vigor? Was there garlic in that pasta?

Nonetheless, first and foremost, I was ecstatic. I knew the instant of initiation that this was what I'd forgotten – the thing I'd called him back for. Whether it was too soon or not... Whether I was being naive and setting myself up for a letdown or not... Even if I totally sucked at it, I wanted to kiss Edward Cullen.

And he was giving me what I wanted.

* * *

**A/N:** I know that feels like the worst cliffy of all time but I have fantastic news for you. You'll have to wait no more than a day for the rest of this. Not to mention, this is the longest of these I've posted. So hopefully that stands for something. But don't worry, I don't tease without delivering. I'm good for it. *wink*


	17. Osculate

**Prompt: **Rapport

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

We stood in the full parking lot that was more or less void of human life, as most people were settled into the evening's festivities by this point. Cars would pass on the road beside us every fifteen to thirty seconds, whipping the wind around and shifting the fallen leaves. Still I could hear my heart trying to crack through my chest with every thump. It was as if time had slowed to ensure I didn't miss a single moment of this. I was astutely aware of everything happening around me.

The air was crisp. I watched as my breath floated between us each time I exhaled. Except for the spots on my chin heated by the warmth from his fingers, my uncovered skin was damp from the dew in the atmosphere. I balled my stiff hands into fists, trying to loosen the effects of the cold. Even with the thick leather protecting me from the brisk environment, I was moments away from shivering and I couldn't say for sure if it would result from the temperature or my nerves.

The balm of his breath was the first part of him to reach me. It covered my face, thawing it in preparation. The tip of his icy nose was next. It settled beside mine, fitting neatly into the crook just before my cheek. My lungs strained, full of unreleased carbon dioxide begging to be freed. I appeared to be holding on to everything in anticipation.

Then I felt his smooth, supple mouth rest upon my slightly parted lips and I finally liberated the imprisoned breath. My bottom pout slumped down as his mouth enclosed around it and I impulsively gripped back. I didn't know if he was naturally sweet or if it was the sugar from dessert but my mouth watered from the taste of him.

His hand went from my chin to behind my neck as he pulled me closer. Our bodies flushed against each other and even with the weather and jacket I could feel his heat sweltering through me. His kiss was tender and measured, dissolving me from the points where we touched to every other end of me.

Without permitting them to do so my hands flew to his face. His cool, velvet cheeks seemed to warm to under my palm. I felt his lips part and I moved in further, greedily filling the gap.

He wrapped an arm around my waist, curving it along my back, just as his tongue swept over my pucker. I naturally arched and became pressed against the car. My fingers climbed up and curled into his thick, honeyed hair and a small whimper escaped me.

At that very second, unwelcomed internal conflict began to churn and swell in the space behind my abdomen. We'd built a small rapport and I'd loved every minute with him tonight, but I still wanted to take this slow. Yet, kissing was slow, right? It was harmless. Even if it wasn't, I couldn't really imagine making myself pull away from him. He was warm, caring, and sexy. He felt, smelled, and tasted too good.

I'd never have the chance to make the choice because Edward made it for me. He moved away from my mouth and perched his above my brows. I was as grateful as I was thwarted. He was right but something deep down cried out for him to choose wrong.

The back of his hand brushed over my cheek and he bent to claim my gaze. Then he whispered, "I'll see you tomorrow."

* * *

**A/N**: Hopefully the lengthiness from yesterday's update will allow you to forgive the shortness of today's. Thanks to tby789 for helping me find my words!


	18. Envisage

**Word Challenge**: Use the following words: waterfall, droplets, piece, dedicate.

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

I sat in an empty, second story, eight person conference room, staring out of the floor to ceiling windows and waiting for my recurring, ten o'clock, Tuesday meeting with Angela Webber to begin. She was a Product Manger and one of two friends I'd made while working at this company. When I thought of companions, weekends, parties, and a general social life came to mind. I didn't participate in any of those activities, so I wasn't sure she fell into the typical category that a friend would. However, when I needed someone to vent to about work, Angela was the person I called.

As I watched the trees sway in the light breeze, I thought back to the surreal day that had just passed. It had begun like any other hectic day, with one mishap after another, and ended in a way that I wouldn't have been able to predict if my entire future had depended on it. I woke up this morning questioning whether or not meeting Edward Cullen was just another of my extremely vivid dreams.

I'd driven home in a fog thicker than the mist surrounding my car last night, mentally replaying the almost enchanted evening and even more unbelievable kiss. His scent, wafting from his coat and filling the small space of my Chevy Colorado, was nearly intoxicating. I found myself inhaling unnecessarily large gulps of air and losing myself in the spicy aroma that I could practically taste on my tongue.

Through all of the excitement, I'd evidently worn myself out because I couldn't remember falling asleep. I must have passed out the moment my head hit the pillow. I'd done everything on auto pilot from the moment I'd gotten behind the wheel. Steering, walking through the front door, undressing for bed – there wasn't a single memory for any of it.

But I distinctly remembered his smile, eyes, gestures, and expressions. I could hear his voice whispering to me. I could feel his hand cradling mine. The contours of his chest were engraved along my torso and his arms embedded along my waste. My recollection of him was so lucid that when he'd appeared in my dream, I could no longer differentiate between what had happened and what hadn't.

A roar of something heavy and powerful crashing against a solid and repelling force hammered around me. The sound, while intense, was not overwhelming. I wasn't compelled to protect myself from it by covering my ears. Instead, I felt it vibrate – almost massage – through me to a point of relaxation.

Droplets from above splashed on my face. I attempted to ignore it at first, resistant against the light shining on the other side of my lids and not ready to part with my tranquility. Nevertheless, the clammy plane beneath me combined with the increasing vitality of the drips, forced my eyes open to seek out the source.

I was greeted with jade rings peering back at me and a coral grin with creases that implied a life time of happiness was beginning to wear into its edges. An almost glowing man with fare skin and sunlit hair was hovering above me. He slid his fingers over my face to clean it of the beads and his smile widened.

Focusing beyond him, I could see that we were in a field, perhaps even a forest or jungle. The reverberating sound was coming from behind me and it resembled the rush of a river. I tore my sight away from the angelic figure before me and glanced back. There was a large waterfall just a handful of yards away.

Certainly, the actualities of the day were much more rational than what I was witnessing and I should have been able to easily know what was factual. But Edward Cullen seemed almost too good to be true and his presence in my reality created a dreamlike feel that nearly paralleled this one.

"Bella?" a familiar voice inquired. I peeled my eyes from the prematurely reddening tree and brought myself back to the modern architecture of the conference room.

"Oh, hi Angela."

"Are my eyes playing tricks on me or where you just smiling?"

"Was I?" I asked, skeptically.

"Yes, you were. What were you thinking about?"

"Hmm. I don't know. How are you today?"

"Don't you dare try to change the subject. Bella, you are friggin' glowing. What's going on? Did you finally get that promotion? Why would you keep something like that from me? Is this that thing where you pretend you didn't get the job and get me all depressed so that I can be more excited when I find out the truth?"

"Whoa, Angela. No, I didn't get any kind of promotion. And thanks for the reminder."

"Then? You're not fooling anyone. Something's changed. Did you– No... You couldn't have."

"What? What couldn't I have done?"

"Did you meet someone?" she guessed, all too eager.

I looked down at my incessantly blinking phone, trying to seem casual. "Can't a girl just be in a good mood?"

"No. Not you. And you're totally deferring." She appraised me for a second longer. "Oh. My. God. You really did."

"Were you planning on talking about work at all, today?" I posed, doing everything I could to reel her in.

"Bella!"

"Alright! Yes. I met someone." She plopped in the nearest chair, far too excited, crossed her arms and legs, and waited for me to continue. I sighed. "His name is Edward. I met him at that ridiculous restaurant yesterday, after Eric from _Branded Materials_ flaked. We went to dinner and we're supposed to go out again tonight."

"_Supposed to_? You say that like you're unsure. Are you or aren't you?"

"Well, we are…" I dithered.

"What is it?" she pressed.

"I'm supposed to text him with my address."

"So, what's the problem? Do it, already."

"Right now? It's ten a.m."

"And…"

"I don't know. What if he's asleep or busy."

I'd been trying to decide how and when to do this since my alarm interrupted my trance this morning. Of course, it was too early to message him then, but when would the right time be? …This afternoon? …A couple of hours before we were supposed to meet, maybe?

And what would I even say? Would I literally text the address and nothing else? Should I say something sweet or flirty? Would he text back to confirm he received it?

"Bella. It's just a text." She exhaled, noisily, and grabbed my phone from in front of me.

"Hey! What are you doing?" I reached over, trying to take it back but she spun the chair around and hopped up. Was she really going to make me chase her? If I got a hold of her, I might snatch a piece of hair from her head. "Angela!"

"Sent!"

"Damn you're fast with that thing. How'd you even know who to send it to?"

"Everyone else in your phone has a business title next to their name." She sat the phone down and we starred at it for a good sixty seconds before she broke the silence. "Well, you know what they say?"

"What," I asked, flat and irritated.

"A watched pot never boils. What's on the agenda?"

I would dedicate my life to making Angela's more difficult, for this. I knew it was too early. He'd think I was some clingy, impatient, needy woman and never want to see me again. I'd probably woken him up and now he was too agitated to want to text or call back. She would definitely have to pay for this.

And then the phone chimed. We both looked at each other, equally surprised. "You look. I can't."

"What do you expect it to say, Bella? 'Thanks but no thanks.' He's already asked you out. This is just logistics."

"Can you just look, please?" I begged.

"Fine." She picked the phone back up and scrolled to the messages. I began to gnaw on my lip, nervously. It was a habit I'd thought I'd broken in college, concerned that it might be viewed as immature or a weakness. Though, the familiarity of it was slightly comforting, and I seemed to be doing it more and more. Then, Angela smirked.

"What? What does it say?"

"So glad it's you. Was starting to worry you'd changed your mind. Can't stop thinking about you. See you at six. Dress warm."


	19. Recreation

**Word Prompt: **Argyle

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

At five fifty-nine, I received a text saying that Edward was downstairs, waiting for me. When I stepped outside, he was standing against the passenger door of a silver Volvo, which was parked at a meter. One foot was in front of the other and his arms were crossed over his chest. He wore black jeans, accentuating the lengthiness of his legs, and navy collard button up.

"I know I said to dress warm but I don't think you'll need two jackets. We have mild climate here, remember?" he teased.

I held up the heavy leather. "I'm returning your coat, smart guy. Thanks for lending it to me."

"You're welcome." He took it from me and then opened the car door to let me in. He truly was a gentleman. "I wasn't in any hurry to have it back."

"Well, I don't want to develop a reputation as the girl that never returns the things she borrows," I joked. He chuckled, probably more out of courtesy than anything else, and then closed the door to join me on the other side.

"Have you eaten?" he asked, while buckling his safety belt. I'd thought about this before he arrived. Six o'clock was typically a dinner hour but I had no idea what his plan was and I didn't want to just assume. If I was even the slightest bit courageous, I might have texted or even called him to ask. Instead, my cowardly self sat with an empty stomach, praying it wouldn't choose now to growl.

"No," I answered, uncertain. "Should I have?"

"No. I didn't expect you to. Though, I'm hoping you don't mind me taking the liberty to prepare something in advance. And I'm really, really hoping you're a fan of sandwiches."

It was unexpected but also kind of sweet. "I'm not picky with food and sandwiches sound great."

"Thank goodness." He grinned, relieved, and then started the car.

As we entered the freeway, I couldn't help but wonder where we were going. I hadn't actually put as much thought into it, throughout the remainder of the day, as one might have anticipated. I'd finally found a way to get my mind back on work, after my meeting with Angela, and when I got home I had to hurry to find something decent to wear. I ended up in a long sleeved navy knit, a pair of dark denim (almost black) jeans, and flat, knee high, suede boots. I worried it might be too casual but seeing his ensemble instantly put me at ease.

He started snickering and I looked over to see what was so funny. "You do realize we're matching, don't you?" he pointed out.

Had I been talking out loud? "Huh. I guess we are. That's funny."

"Great minds…" He reached over and pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, consequentially burning the skin of my cheeks from the inside out. I wore it down, today. I'd picked up a new blow dryer on the way home and was finally able to do something decent with the mop. "Aren't you the least bit curious about what we're doing, tonight?"

"I am…"

"However, you've yet to ask," he examined.

"I was getting there," I defended. He laughed more, and then refocused on the road. "So, where are we headed?"

"Why don't you try to guess?"

"What? Why did you bring it up if you weren't going to tell me?"

"I thought this way would be more fun," he bolstered.

"Unlike some people, I'm not a mind reader. How the heck am I supposed to even know where to begin? We could be doing any number of things."

"I could give you some hints. Why don't we play twenty questions?"

"Do we even have that long of a drive?" I posed, doubtfully. San Francisco was a big city, but not big enough for me to go through the large amount of possibilities.

"Well, either way you win. You'll know when we get there if you don't figure it out before then." I was a bit frustrated but also found his excitement sort of cute. It was clear that I wasn't going to win this one.

I tried to recall what little I did know so I could come up with a reasonable question to ask. He'd told me to dress warm and that we were eating sandwiches. I looked around the car for any other sort of clues. On the back seat sat a thick wool blanket with argyles stitched into it. It was folded neatly into a tight square.

"Are we going on a picnic?"

"No. And I think asking questions about what we're doing might be more helpful than trying to outright guess it."

I bit my lip, both trying not to be annoyed and even harder to think. He had a point but so did I, regarding the endless potential. Still, I pushed forward.

"Is it out doors or in?"

"Out," he confirmed.

"Are we going to a park?"

"Sort of."

"_Sort of_? What does that mean?" He was hardly playing fair.

"That's too broad of a question. They're only supposed to allow for a yes or a no."

"And you're supposed to answer with a yes or a no. _Sort of_ doesn't count," I argued.

"Well then, no."

"What? But you just—"

"It's not actually a park but park is in its name."

I couldn't be more confused. I'd lived in San Francisco for a while. I tried to map out what was ahead of us on the freeway and narrow down my options. It was too late for the beach. We weren't going to any restaurants. Park… What had park in the title?

"AT&T Park?" I said, under my breath.

"See, I knew you'd figure it out," he congratulated. Not more than a moment later, we drove passed a sign stating the field would be on our next exit.

Edward was taking me to a baseball game. This would be interesting.


	20. Spectator

**Prompt**: Write a story, poem, or drabble about your character going against popular opinion.

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

We sat in the last row of the premium lower box seats, on the infield. He'd bought us some pop corn and a couple of sodas. Although outside food wasn't allowed inside the stadium, his backpack had hidden pockets on the bottom which stored our sandwiches. It also held the wool blanket that had sat in the backseat during the drive over.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"I am, actually." He passed me a large and warm club sandwich, on a baget. It appeared as if it had come from a deli but something told me it was his handy work. "Did you make this?"

"Of course." I bit into it and couldn't help the sounds of enjoyment that spilled from me. When did I become such a noisy eater? "I take it my sandwiches aren't so bad."

"Is there anything you cook that doesn't taste like a slice of heaven?" I solicited, dubiously.

"Alice seems to think she bakes better than I do."

"Her dessert was pretty good, last night."

"Indeed, it was."

We ate in relative silence, watching the first inning of the Giants against the Arizona Diamondbacks and the sun descend from the sky. Seeing a live baseball game was definitely a different experience to one on television. Primarily, the lack of commercials made it a little less daunting to sit through. But also, witnessing the players work as a team, hustling, and giving it their all was much easier to appreciate when viewed in person.

"Are you curious as to why I chose to bring you here, tonight, instead of something more traditional for a second date?" he raised.

"I expected you'd fill me in at some point. Though, I do recall you mentioning something about it at dinner."

"Well, what I said then is a big part of it. I do enjoy the sport and I thought I could show you why. Hopefully you'll be able to find it fun, as well. I also figured that we couldn't talk at the movies, we could still eat dinner, and this is one of the things that people most enjoy about the city."

"All great reasons."

"I should add, in case you were wondering, that while popular opinion might claim suites to be the best seats in the house, I prefer sitting with the rest of the fans. It's great to be a part of a community of people participating in the same cause." I could easily understand what he meant. The energy from the crowd was palpable. It was almost more entertaining to watch them than the sport itself. He continued, "And front row seats don't allow you to see everything that's happening at once. Of course, being in the last row allows for a bit more privacy, as well – not to mention the overhang protection. "

He'd certainly put a great deal of thought into this. It wasn't as if he'd simply added me to his plans for the evening. He wanted me to enjoy the experience. "I'm glad you brought me. I wouldn't have guessed it but it's nice to be outdoors and amongst other people."

"I'm delighted you feel that way." He didn't seem the least bit comforted because he'd been confident in his decision from the start. There was a chance I'd actually have to put a bit more faith into his people reading abilities.

As darkness fell and the night grew colder, a thick mist started to roll over the bleachers and flow into the field. He pulled out the blanket and covered us both with it. Then he reached over and took my hand in his. It was simple but incredibly thoughtful. I found myself wanting to scoot closer to him and disappointed that there was an arm rest between us.

He explained the game to me so that I could understand what was happening. We laughed together when the crowd would boo, cheer, or get up and sing. We even participated in the wave. Before the seventh inning stretch, the players got a break and fans went to refresh their snacks or use the restroom. Our row and the ones just below us hadn't really been filled so when the few viewers parted, we were relatively alone.

"Was today better than yesterday?" Edward inquired.

"Hmm. I don't know yet. That's a hard one."

"But I thought you'd had a bad day." He seemed a bit puzzled. Did he really not know?

"I didn't have a bad night," I clarified.

"Oh." It sounded like he might have thought _duh_ to himself. "My night was pretty fantastic, too."

"So, it might be kind of hard to top," I added.

"What would you say was the highlight? If I'm going to try to exceed it, I might need a benchmark."

"Well, it was all wonderful, really, but if I had to choose one thing in particular…"

"Yes," he pressed. He'd moved closer, perhaps to hear me better.

"It would have to be the end of the night," I finished.

"Mmm. I quite enjoyed that part, as well." At that moment, the nearest game watchers went up in a roar. I looked away from Edward and saw that we were on the big screen and the words "Kiss Cam" hovered above our image.

"Looks like we're on the monitor." I turned to face him.

"Well, we don't want to disappoint the fans, now do we?" Then, he leaned forward and placed one soft but fiery kiss upon my lips.


	21. Embrace

**A/N**: I hope you aren't too confused by the new title. Since I'm more than half way through this project and there seems to be a firm storyline at play here, I thought it deserved a real name. It's French and translates to Prompted (or Incited) Romance in English.

**Prompt**: Grim Reaper

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

I wanted to check my watch but feared it would be obvious and Edward might think I was in a hurry to leave. In reality, I could feel that it was getting late and that our time was almost up. We were watching the last inning and that at least meant the game was nearly over.

Some people had already started leaving the stadium to try and beat traffic. Would he drive me straight home? …Maybe ask me for coffee? I knew I shouldn't be indulging in caffeinated beverages at this hour, considering my early start the next day. Yet, the idea of having a bit more time with him seemed to out way the cost.

Some game watchers a handful of rows below stood up but didn't leave. I realized that there were chunks of people throughout the bleachers doing the same. No one was close enough obstruct my view of the field but I still found myself wanting to know what I was missing.

I looked over to Edward to ask and he spoke before I could get the words out. "The game is close. If Romo doesn't make it around, the Giants will lose."

"Oh. Should we stand, too?" I asked

"We can…"

I wanted to show him that I was all in. That I'd fully absorbed the experience and was having a good time. So, I smiled, folded the blanket off of me and onto him, and then hopped up. He beamed back, folded the blanket once more, and placed it in the seat on his opposite side. Then he joined me.

He, again, explained what would need to happen in order for the Giants to win, pointing to different places on the field and sharing his predictions. He was entirely optimistic and exuberant. I couldn't help but feel excited, too.

I shoved my hands in my tight pockets, trying to protect them from the cool air. Of course, he noticed. "Are you warm enough?"

"I'm sure I'll live."

Apparently that wasn't a sufficient answer because he reached behind and grabbed the blanket. I expected he'd wrap it over my shoulders but instead he draped it over his own. Then he stepped behind me and pulled it over me, as well.

This was even better than when it had covered me in the chair. His body heat seemed to circulate through the fabric and I felt myself melt into him. He brought his lips close to my ear and whispered, offsetting the heat with melodious voiced chills.

"It's nice to hold you without your life being at risk."

"Thanks for keeping the Grim Reaper away."

*****

Edward was right and the Giants won, by the skin of their heels. After enough people had filed out, we followed suit and exited the stadium. He held my hand as we slowly took the ten minute walk to the nearest parking lot.

I couldn't believe how much fun I'd had. It was strange to feel so free and comfortable. I hadn't thought about work at all. I wasn't concerned about the next semester of business school starting back up or what chores I'd need to get done when I went home. I didn't even feel guilty about the blinking message from my mom that waited on my machine.

However, as nice as it felt, it was also a bit worrying. Was this only possible with him? If we didn't see each other again after tonight, would I just revert back into my tunnel vision rut? I was almost positive it would be all too easy to do so. Both notions – of returning to the norm and never seeing him again – created a twinge of pain that simmered from some cavity within my chest.

About half way through the drive home, Edward finally broke the silence. "You're quiet, again. Any chance you'll tell me what you're thinking, tonight?"

I wanted to. I felt like I'd already come a long way from the tight lipped girl at lunch, just the day before. However, I still had trouble with giving up too much of myself. What if I was tearing down pieces that I'd need to keep together in the end? As warm as he was and as comfortable as I felt around him, I'd still only known him for about a day and already appeared to be far too attached.

Though, further still, wasn't that how people came to know one another? Didn't I need to open up to him in order for that to happen? He didn't appear to be holding much back from me and he'd clearly been through worse. What had I even been through?

"I'm trying to figure out why this is hard for me." He waited for me to continue, probably being cautious. "I've never really been a big believer in…" I didn't know how to complete the sentence.

"Love?" he finished for me. My face burned hot at the very small but equally enormous term. "Don't worry. It's just a word." He was only trying to lighten the tension because we both knew that it was much more than that.

"Well, I guess that's it," I answered, uneasily. "I haven't exactly had the greatest examples. It's always seemed so fairy tale like to me. And, I honestly have no clue what I'm doing, right now."

"Does anyone know how to do this?"

"I suppose not." I couldn't even face him. This was not only embarrassing to talk about, but it made me feel so vulnerable. He pulled in to the curb he'd picked me up from earlier and parked the car. Then he turned to me, leaning against the arm rest.

"Bella…" He slipped his hand under my chin, wordlessly asking for my eyes. I shifted to meet him, then. We were within inches of each other. "Do you like me?"

"Of course," I confirmed, softly. Even though it should have been obvious by now, he still blushed and smiled with what could only be relief. He curved his fingers over my skin and I unconsciously tilted into them.

"I like you, too. And while I think we should take this slowly, I'm pretty confident that I'm going to much more than like you in the future. So, I'm hoping you'll give me the chance to earn the same feelings from you."

I could only nod to that. I hoped he understood that I was beyond acquiescent. None of the words that came to mind seemed to convey the appropriate emotion.

Instead of saying anything else, he traveled the short distance between us and placed his lips over mine. This time, I had no doubts; no hesitations. I knew exactly what I wanted to do.

He slipped his hand into my loose hair and I matched him with a hand on his cheek. I unfastened my lips and sampled his with the tip of my tongue. His mouth was ajar and my taste buds were shortly greeted by his in return. I opened further, wanting as much of him as he'd give me and for him to have the same from me.

I felt his other hand on my thigh, sliding back and forth. I inched closer, lost in the feel and taste of him. He skated up my hip, just under the hem of my sweater, and the heat from his hand seared through me. He gripped at my skin and a tiny whine whistled from my nose as I kissed him with even more fervor. Then, all too quickly and familiarly, Edward pulled away. He rested his head on my shoulder as we both panted.

"I can see now," he gasped, "that this slow thing is going to be anything but easy."


	22. Inundated

**Prompt**: Use the following words: Racehorse, Blue, Progressive, and Pewter

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

"Why are you driving so fast?" I exclaimed. Edward bent a corner, exiting and climbing up the free way ramp. I clung to the door handle in an attempt to stabilize myself against the progressive acceleration.

We were on our way to lunch at Pier 39. It was the first time we'd seen each other since the baseball game on Tuesday. We'd talked on the phone each evening following it and by Friday were texting each other almost nonstop. During Thursday night's conversation, he'd asked what I thought about spending Saturday at the wharf before he had to go to work for the sunset rush. I'd giddily agreed, stifling my excitement through the cover of the cell phone.

"I'm barely doing thirty-five," he argued. "That's nothing for my baby. She's a racehorse."

"The speed limit is twenty-five. It's not a suggestion, you know. It's the law."

"They only make those things because if they didn't people would take the ramp at fifty. It's not serious."

"Right, that's why I'm about to sour out of the window…because it's not serious."

"You'll be fine," he pacified me. Then he looked over and his bright smile began to waver. "Actually, you are turning a bit blue. You're not going to throw up are you?"

At that moment, the car hurtled over a small hill, bouncing me in my seat. I rushed my free hand over my face, sheltering my eyes from the terrifying show. "Are we almost there? Gosh, I don't remember you driving like this last time."

"That wasn't me. It's the horrible roads in this city. Anyone would have hopped over that," he protested.

I rolled my eyes, not even slightly believing him. I'd driven these very same streets before and had no memory of taking flight without wings. Unexpectedly, the car slid to a quick and jolting halt.

"We're here. You can come out from hiding," he teased.

I tore out of the small, suffocating space and steadied myself against the rear door, focusing on the stillness of the pewter rim below. I also inhaled deep and measured breaths of the salted air, trying to calm my agitated nerves. He came up from behind me and placed his hand on my back, rubbing soothing and wide circles into it.

"Why didn't you tell me you get car sick?"

"I don't," I uttered in a low voice, "or at least I never have before."

Edward took my hand and turned me until my back was against the car. He captured the other and then placed them both on each of his hips. He moved closer until I was compressed between his chest and the vehicle, and then rested his hands on my face, leveling our gazes.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I don't know yet," I pouted, stubbornly.

His lips hovered over mine, gliding back and forth, faintly touching them. "And now?"

"Not sure," I whispered. He softly pressed our mouths together, barely parting them so that I could feel his breath flow lightly over my skin, just before they met. His kiss was leisurely and delicate, as though he were touching an easily blemished petal.

"How do you feel now?" he solicited, once more, speaking against my lips and dizzying me in new way.

"Amazing."

* * *

**A/N**: Adding words so this ch isn't 666. YIKES!


	23. Aquatic

**Word Prompt**: Use the following words: Fishnet, Aged, Stairs, Water, Oak

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

I watched the water surrounding the tiny manmade island ripple with the wind and listened to the chatty sea lions that sat upon the distant, aged ocean rocks. It was a beautiful and clear day for the city. Only white puffy clouds hovered in the sky and, while still breezy, the high sun reflecting off of the shore kept the temperature comfortable.

Edward and I sat in quiet calm, waiting for our order to arrive. He had reserved a patio seat for us at Forbes Island restaurant. The interior was classically designed in chestnut oak, wrapping stairs that lead to a lighthouse, and low illumination. However, the natural setting of the coastline, adorned in only a few beach items like fishnets and life savers, created the real appeal for this location. It was just a five minute ferry ride over and we were able to watch the marine animals play during the short trip.

He sat adjacent to me, toying with my bare fingers. "You don't wear any jewelry," he noted.

I looked at the hand he held and answered nonchalantly. "Not really."

"Do you dislike it?"

"I don't know. I wouldn't exactly say that. It just seems like more of an accessory; like something to add if you get dressed up. I don't do much of that."

"I see. Are you enjoying the view?"

"Yes. It's beautiful here," I praised, looking back over the abyss.

"Are you sure you're okay? After the drive and the boat ride—"

"I don't get sea sick," I cut him off, flippant. He scoffed, in a debating huff, and I met his mocking eyes. "What? I don't. You just drive like a maniac."

"I do no such thing. I've never been in an accident nor have I received a single ticket."

"You must have been an angel in another life because someone up there is looking out for you. That's unbelievable."

"It's skill not luck or prayer."

"So you say. I'm considering catching a cab home."

"Alright, that's enough about my driving. What's your favorite color?" he asked, changing the subject.

"…Another game of twenty questions?"

"No. I believe this is closer to your game, if anything." He was light and cheery, even after my ridicule.

"I guess you're right. What makes you ask?"

"You're wearing blue, again, and it's _my_ favorite color. I wondered if maybe it was yours too."

"Oh… No. That's just a coincidence."

I'd completely forgotten I wore blue on Tuesday. Today I'd chosen a turquoise cardigan over white camisole and a pair of lighter skinny jeans. We hadn't matched this time. Edward was dressed in denim and a white long sleeved button up, which was folded past his forearms.

"I think I like it even more on you," he complimented. "So, if not blue, what is it?"

"Green," I replied too quickly. I'd never really had a favorite color before. Mostly, I was influenced by the weather and wore whatever I felt allowed me to best blend in. He inclined a brow, curious.

"Why is that?"

"Why is blue your favorite color?" I was deflecting. I knew I'd spoken to soon and I hoped I could think of some better reason than the one I had.

"I thought it was every boy's," he joked. "No, honestly, days like today are why I like blue. It's fresh and freeing. So, why green?"

_Sour apples… _

_Sparkling emeralds…_

_Jade rings… _

It was the same shade I'd encountered every night when I'd shut my lids since the day we met. The same hue I now noticed in things like blades of grass and street lights that I hadn't paid attention to before. It was the tinge that mesmerized me to the point where I couldn't stare for very long without gaping.

He waited, patiently sliding his fingers over my upraised palm, as I mulled over my answer. Eventually, I sighed softly, forfeiting. There was just no point in denying his hold on me.

"It's the color of your eyes."

* * *

**A/N**: I know the last couple have been shorter than you're used to. I plan to write more for tomorrow so hopefully you can bare with me until then. Only 8 more prompts to go! Lets see where they end up in that time.


	24. Tacit

**A/N:**

Dear Readers,

Thank your for your patience. I tried very hard to write during the holiday but couldn't and once I got behind, it swirled. Nevertheless, I don't intend to skip a single prompt! So, here's the 24th's.

**Word Prompt**: Testosterone

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

He said nothing, at first. He leaned forward, placing his elbow on the table and propping his chin in his hand, but continued to tickle my palm with the fingers from his loose hand. His piercing gaze truly felt as if he could see through me – past the skin, flesh, and marrow, to a protected space within that held something only he might find precious. He looked as though he could reach out and touch it and that one touch could make or break me.

It was overwhelming.

The waitress came and sat our food before us, interrupting our intimate bubble and breaking his penetrating stare. I was a little relieved because being so drawn to someone with so much potential influence was intense. However, I was more so anxious. I wanted to know what he was thinking. The look on his face wasn't one I'd seen before.

I couldn't say it was bad. It was just complex – multifaceted. It felt fervent but also sort of… _uneasy_? There was just some piece I was missing. Something I didn't understand. Admitting being taken by him through mention of my affection for his eyes seemed to shift him in some way.

I had to decide if I was going to dive right into probing for information or ease him into it. I worried that if I didn't bring it up right away, I might lose my chance. But I couldn't help feeling like he'd have told me what was on his mind if he wanted me to know.

Easy had to be the best way. "What was your favorite thing about high school," I blurted out. Following, I nervously shoveled a spoonful of my clam chowder in my mouth.

He looked up from his plate of crab pasta, caught off guard, and chuckled. "Cross Country and Track & Field."

"You're a runner?" I inquired, while cleaning myself with the napkin.

"I start every morning with a six a.m. run, before I head to the gym," he said, with satisfaction. I seized the opportunity to appreciate his build. It suddenly made sense that he would be strikingly toned and thin.

"Well, aren't you just a bundle of testosterone?" I jabbed, light heartedly, and trying not to become flustered over my appraisal. "You should know that is one thing we will never share."

"I suppose that's not entirely surprising. You did say you weren't much into sports."

"My spastic self...? I'd be a walking death trap. No thanks."

He took a moment to finish chewing and then leaned unnecessarily closer. "You know if you ever chose to join me, I'd protect you."

I softened my expressions and spoke tenderly. "While you've definitely been my armor-less knight as of late, we should probably count our blessings and not test more waters than we need to."

"Up to you…" He shrugged, casually, and then winked. He returned to his dish and then posed the same query. "And your favorite high school memory?"

This was the error in my choice of question. High school was anything but something worth remembering. Perhaps that was more the problem than anything else.

"Graduation?"

"Are you asking or telling me?"

"I'm trying it on for size…seeing how it rolls off of the tongue. I think it'll work."

"Okay." He laughed at my seeming humor which was actually fairly frank. Then he waited for me to continue.

"I was mostly glad to be done. To try out college and see if I'd have better luck there. But my dad flew out for the ceremony and it was the first time my parents and I had sat down together, peacefully, in years. It was a nice way to close the chapter."

"So, they're divorced?"

"Yup. Since I was six. Renee moved us to Phoenix where she taught elementary school while Charlie stayed in Washington as the chief of police."

"That couldn't have been easy," he sympathized.

"It wasn't too bad. Sure, I didn't see my dad very often growing up but we spent a lot more time together when I was at UW. So, we're all good now. And Renee remarried during that time, too. She met Phil when he signed on as the little league baseball coach and his practices were held at her school."

"And do you like Phil?"

"Sure. He's nice enough. I feel better knowing there's someone around to take care of my mom." I realized after I'd said everything that I'd made my mom sound helpless but he didn't appear to have taken it that way. "What about your parents?"

An almost imperceptible hint of the expression he'd worn before flickered in his eyes before he diverted it with his miasma producing smirk and spoke. "My mother is Esme and my father, Carlisle. They live in Connecticut. She does interior design, mostly for fun, and he's a dean at Yale's school of medicine."

It was short and to the point. In fact, it sounded more like something that might appear on the back of a novel instead of essentials regarding his family. He hesitated, contemplative, and then made a decision. He proceeded in a low voice. "I haven't been back since I came here."

"Why is that?" I asked, gently. I didn't want to push but since he'd brought it up, I thought it might be okay to ask.

"A number of reasons. Esme didn't want me to leave. I felt like I let Carlisle down. I put them through a lot… But I just couldn't be there anymore. It's not difficult to think of excuses to stay away. However, it's unwarranted and cowardly."

"I think you're being a little hard on yourself. I'm sure your parents understand." I took his hand back in mind.

"Them being so understanding is part of the problem. It hasn't been easy to face the life I was supposed to live but couldn't, while being let off of the hook for it."

"Edward, you got a divorce. That's hardly cause for anyone to call in the militia." I reached up and caressed his lightly furred face, enjoying the soft bristles against my palm. I felt him lean into it, just a little. It was clear that words were going unsaid. There was something he was battling over sharing.

I was curious but I didn't want to spoil the day by making him rehash the difficulties of his past. He sound as if it quite a bit of effort for him to talk about but he also wasn't telling me to stop. Solely because I missed his smile, I decided to shift the conversation, for the moment.

"You know your eyes are like olives in the sun and a forest at night?"

"You really like them, huh?" he asked, with unanticipated embarrassment. The question felt heavier than just asking about his eyes.

"I do," I whispered. I slid my fingers over the length of his cheek and received the smile I was looking for.

* * *

**A/N**: Sorry if you're feeling unfulfilled. I am too and so is Bella. However, I'm aiming to post again tonight. So, hopefully we'll all get some gratification soon, presuming the characters allow us to.


	25. Desolate

**A/N**: So, I did write more last night but me and this chapter had to go a few rounds in the ring before it allowed me to finish it. Here's hoping it was worth the battle.

**Word Prompt:** Christmas

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

We walked along the pier, heading nowhere in particular, but trying not to be trampled by the hustle and bustle of a Saturday at The Warf. The sun was still high in the sky, but no longer directly above us as noon had long passed. Much like the night in his kitchen, regardless to what occurred around us, moments with Edward were somehow peaceful and exclusive.

He continued to hold my hand, rubbing small circles into the parts his fingers touched. It wasn't like something couples did just to show they were paired. It wasn't even a simple gesture he was doing to be sweet on a date. It was as if we fed off of the vibrant connection between us and mere contact ensured a constant and steady flow. My hand literally tingled when merged with his and buzzed with emptiness whenever he released it.

"So, you live alone." It wasn't a question. He was verifying, though I couldn't guess why.

A sudden vision of the two of us alone in my apartment flittered through my mind, causing my stomach to swirl. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had anyone over. Just the thought of him there brightened the mental image of my typically dim and barren home – made it feel warmer.

"I do," I answered, trying to gauge his direction.

"And your parents live in different states…"

"Right."

"So, what made you move here?"

"Oh. Well, while I loved Arizona, I wasn't thrilled about the idea of moving in with the newlyweds. My dad was my primary reason for moving to Washington and I really wasn't a fan of the weather, as silly as that may seem. So, when I was offered the job here, I didn't see a reason to say no."

"How adventurous of you; leaving your friends to try out new cities."

Me… Adventurous? Was he serious?

"I don't know if I'd go that far. Besides my mom, I wasn't leaving all that much behind when I went to UW. The closest thing to a friend I'd ever made was in college. And Jessica, my roommate, took to dating Mike the minute we ended. The smoke hadn't even cleared before she stomped on that pit."

"Do I sense a bit of resentment?" he taunted.

"Please. I couldn't care less. Great for them. I think they made more sense than he and I ever did. But Jess and I clearly weren't very close for that to have happened."

He squeezed my hand, comfortingly. "And what about friends, now?"

"I've made a couple." I didn't even believe my anticlimactic reply. This was flat out embarrassing. What twenty-five year old single woman had no friends? He must have assumed as much because he didn't press any further.

"So, what do the holidays look like, with your parents being separated? I'm sorry if I'm prying—"

"You're not," I interrupted. "I traded off the past couple of years, spending time with each of them. But this year, Mom and Phil are thinking of visiting Florida and Dad's spending Christmas with his new girlfriend, Sue, and her son and daughter when they come home for winter break."

"So you were going to spend Christmas alone?" He sounded saddened by this, making it difficult to ignore how pitiful I was.

"I'll be fine," I attempted to assure us both. Then I mumbled, under my breath, "It's not really much different than how I spend every other day."

We stopped in front of a row of sailboats. He stepped closer – close enough to speak at a whisper and be heard, unmistakably. Then he swept my hair behind my ears.

"Bella…" He was struggling with his words again, but he didn't have to say it. Who was I kidding?

"I know. I'm pathetic. And I have no real excuse." I sighed in frustration, preparing to ramble some more but his thumb pressed against my lower lip.

"We don't have to be alone anymore." While he spoke only to me, the words sounded as if they were meant for a larger audience; as though he'd needed to hear them, as well. He rested his head against mine, tracing the skin of my cheek.

"I don't want to be," I murmured. "This might be crazy, but…"

"But?" he encouraged.

This was it. This was me putting myself out there. "I feel like I've been making this harder because it's too easy. I'm sure that doesn't make any sense but, I've known you for a handful of days and yet…"

"It feels irrevocable," he finished for me.

Purely to play down the truth, I probably wouldn't have chosen that word, but it felt more right than anything I could have come up with. This felt predestined. Like, without knowing much at all, I could feel that I was made for him and him me.

Whether I tried to fight it or not, this was going to happen. Perhaps we'd simply traveled our separate paths, just to end up here. I'd been waiting for him.

"Are you sure you don't get sea sick?"

"We're not back to that again, are we?"

He took my face in both of his hands and raised my sight to his. "I just want to make sure you'll be okay on my boat."


	26. Covet

**Word Prompt**: Blizzard

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

The wind whipped around me as we sailed into the open sea. My hair flew over my face, impeding my vision of the bay, and I shivered from both the blizzard like cold and exhilarating freedom provoked by the empty waters. I was very close to releasing a childlike and euphoric giggle.

Edward stood tall, steering the petite but powerful boat as the air rushed into him. His white button up clung to his skin, outlining the curves in his chest and arms. He was only a few feet away from me and yet I found myself longing for him.

The vessel began to slow, as it spun in a wide circle, before coming to a near stop. It continued to drift with the movement of the waves, preventing it from ceasing entirely. Then Edward removed the couple of steps between us.

"This was a gift from my grandfather, after graduation. I told him it was too much but he insisted. I'd never even taken it out before I came here."

"I forgot to look. What do you call her?"I assumed it was a _her_. Men often named their toys after women. He sat beside me on the chilled metal boat top and wrapped me in his arms.

"_The Clair De Lune_." He nuzzled into my neck, grazing his nose along my collarbone.

"Ahh… Debussy," I affirmed. He peered out from under my hair, frowning, and then beamed almost immediately after. I'd obviously pleased him with my alleged classical music fluency. "My mother used to play it when she put me to bed. She said it was relaxing and would stimulate my mind."

"Your mother's a wise woman."

"She has her moments."

"Yes, I'm a fan of Debussy, but the name is twofold. Did you know he titled the piece after the poem by Paul Verlaine?" I shook my head, saying no. He nestled back into my neck and spoke faintly.

_"Votre âme est un paysage choisi  
Que vont charmant masques et bergamasques  
Jouant du luth et dansant et quasi  
Tristes sous leurs déguisements fantasques."_

"You speak French?"

"Yes." I felt a soft kiss land on my skin and a tremble shimmer from the place his lips touched to somewhere in the pit of my belly.

"Wow," I said with a sigh, mesmerized. "What did it mean?"

_"Your soul is a chosen landscape  
Where charming masked and costumed figures go  
Playing the lute and dancing and almost  
Sad beneath their fantastic disguises."_

"That's beautiful… and also kind of fitting," I noted. He chuckled and the vibration echoed through to the fabric of me. It was like my senses were heightened and every move he made caused some sort of physical reaction.

"It is, isn't it?" I quivered for no apparent reason. Though, I knew my skin was prickling from being so close to him and feeling his breath as he spoke to me. Still, even with the breeze and sporadic shudders, I was close to breaking a sweat. "Would you like to see the inside of the boat? It'll be warmer there."

I was so caught up in the view and his proximity that I'd completely forgotten there was anything below us. "Sure."

*****

He showed me around the unexpectedly spacious quarters, designed with light wood trim and velvet blue upholstery. There was a small kitchenette, a restroom, and two wide benches that were large enough for someone to sleep on – each almost the width of a twin bed.

"Have a seat."

He passed me a quilt and I sat in the center of the bench, draping myself with the cover. The cushion beneath me felt like a thick foam mattress. It was fluffy and I couldn't feel any of the wood under me. Then Edward sat in the corner, with one foot propped on the pad and his eyes fixed on me.

He looked serene and completely at ease here. I loved that he could share this with me. In fact, he'd shared so much in such a short period that I found myself feeling more and more comfortable with him. I was realizing that it didn't matter where he took me. I'd be content as long as he was nearby. Nevertheless, that thought twisted my insides when I remembered how it felt to be without him.

It was the thing I'd feared most: being attached and dependent on a man for happiness. However, that wasn't really what bothered me anymore. I'd gone without someone and had survived just fine, but I knew now that I was better with Edward than not. Furthermore, it was only him I wanted. I'd never noticed anyone else because it had to be _him_.

"What are you thinking," he asked. For once, I wanted to be candid. We'd come so far that now wasn't the time to hold back.

"How safe I feel with you."

He extended his hand to me and I took it so that he could scoot me closer. We sat perpendicular, with him beside a white wall and me between his legs along the adjoining one. He took my cheek in his hand and turned my face toward him.

His eyes were beseeching. Somehow, they begged for trust without conviction that they deserved it. Could he truly not know how worthy he was?

Edward had kissed me four times. Not once had I initiated a single thing. He'd asked me to lunch, dinner, the following date, and here today. He had to know what this meant to me – that I wanted this just as much as he did. So, I mirrored his touch with my own, taking his jaw into my hand, and pulled him to me.

My kiss was different than his. It was hungry from the start. The moment I felt his body molding with mine, I recognized the subtle ache I'd been feeling since before lunch. I was famished for him and I couldn't get close enough.

His hands went behind my neck and into my hair, as a light groan escaped from his lungs. I mimicked the sound with my own moan and he pressed me further against him. I didn't need the blanket. His heat was coursing through me, mingling with my own. I kicked it away and shifted so that I was on my knees, above the pad, and in front of him.

His fervent, pillowing lips were spread wide for my gluttonous tongue, which searched aimlessly inside of him. We took turns panting, tasting, and massaging; quenching as much as we could through this gesture. And then he tore away from my lips.

I began to panic – ready to protest and call him back this time. But I didn't need to. He went to my neck and placed steaming wet kisses over the length of it, whispering my name with each break. I felt myself inching back, with the support of his arm behind me. I was hardly aware of anything beyond the feel of his mouth on my skin.

When we settled, and he was hovering with most of his weight pressed against me, he finally drew away and claimed my eyes. With one hand on my face, he gently commanded my attention, and searched for silent answers. I declared what my body had been desperately trying to convey.

"I want you."

* * *

**A/N**: Yes, I'm a bitch like that. But remember how worth it waiting for the first kiss was? *snicker*


	27. Zeal

**Word Prompt**: Tranquil

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

Edward's expression shifted from seeking to eager. His eyes softened and twinkled with adoration and desire. Yet, he continued to hesitate. My words weren't enough of an admission for him to be certain that this was okay. He needed a more ensuring sign.

I grinned and lifted myself off of the bench, which he permitted by rising with me. I wiggled out of my cardigan, and then lightly captured his lower lip with my teeth, bringing him back to me. My fingers went to his shirt, unfastening each button, as I eased us back.

He followed, but was still a little stilted. I'd never intentionally tempted a man before and I wasn't sure if I was doing it right, but I knew I wanted Edward to want me. I needed him to be okay with this, too. It was only my memory of how he'd held me and touched me that made me sure his concern over my best interest was the cause of his delay.

So I persisted, gliding my tongue over his lips. He gradually thawed into the kiss, gaining more confidence with each pull. I discarded his shirt, clinging to the horseshoe in his biceps as I skated the fabric over them. After, in one final gesture, I spread my legs, allowing him to sink in between them.

I couldn't see, as I was wrapped in the feel of his lips and tongue moving with mine, but I could feel the rigid contours of his chest beneath my palms. I let my hands glide over the swells and lower until I reached the light dusting of hair that continued beyond what I could reach. I followed along the cuts of his hips and gripped at his waist, hauling him further into me.

His imprisoned and visibly strained length aligned with my middle and he pressed forward, in a quest for some level of friction. His fingers swept over my uncovered arm, trailing a line of chills from his touch, and continuing to my jeaned thigh, until he cupped my knee and bent it upward. He parted from my mouth and returned to my casing, tasting below my neckline and over the top of my chest. I nearly cried out in celebration.

_Yes._

His hand made its way upward, exploring the arc of my backside, and proceeding until his fingers slid beneath my shirt, tickling the skin there. He reached further and groaned when he slipped under the shelf bra, discovering my unbound breast, and covering it completely with his robust hand. He squeezed, delicately, and then swept his thumb over my already taught nipple.

_More._

He let go of me, only long enough to lift my shirt, completely tearing it over my head and exposing my bare breasts to him. Instead of diving right back to them, he took a moment to absorb the sight before him. He outlined their shape with his hands while mouthing words of praise.

"Beautiful."

Slowly this time, he returned his fingers and lips to my highly sensitive skin, teasing me by kissing around but not on the area I wanted him to. He'd been faintly grinding against me and the layers between us were beginning to drive me mad. I craved a greater sensation then the thick material would allow for.

Half out of my wits, with my eyes rolled back, as he'd finally begun swirling over my extremely receptive peaks, I stretched for his belt between us, eager to remove the barrier. He boosted his hips enough to grant me access, and my hands maintained impressive grace, quickly undoing the buckle. His mouth switched breasts and hand took on the other, while I unbuttoned and lowered his jeans, gliding my hands over and clutching his flexed, cotton covered ass.

_Yes!_

This was insane. I'd had sex. I'd climaxed before, though mostly from foreplay. I'd even touched myself on days where I was unjustifiably anxious and in need of some type of relief. But even that only did so much, often leaving me feeling sunken and unsatisfied. However, nothing had ever been like this.

The way his strokes felt were truly ludicrous. And even with the tough material covering me, the feel his thinly veiled and shifting groin beside my increasingly needy center set me ablaze. I couldn't recall ever having experienced anything close to it.

His tongue was teasing and tender at first. Then it steadily began to swirl and eventually he was grazing his teeth over the responsive mounds. Who would have known that teeth would feel so amazing on my skin? There was a very good chance that this would all be over before my pants were even removed, at the rate he was going.

_Oh God!_

Edward was smart. He must have gathered as much, from the probable gasps and whimpers escaping me. I was far too lost in the sensations to pay much mind to such things.

He began kissing lower, along my sides and abdomen. He'd completely surrendered. The man of conviction was before me and he knew exactly what he was doing. He was focused and driven and would likely me bring me to my knees.

He unbolted the chastity belt like denim, sliding it and my thong down to my feet, and kissing his way back up. I thanked the heavens and all that was good and true for whatever inspiration I'd had to wear my black lace and shave my legs this morning. I'd never in a million years have guessed that anyone would be seeing me naked today, but I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

"Radiant," he whispered.

There was only one obstacle left between us, in the form of light grey boxer briefs. I sat up, forcing him to his knees, and curved my hands around the elastic of his underwear, towing them over his hips. Even after feeling him against me, I didn't expect the remarkable endowment that rested behind the fabric, or my reaction to it.

I literally salivated at the sight of his beautifully sizeable and flawless cock. The wetness between my legs was no longer ignorable as I could vividly picture him sliding into me – I could almost feel it – and immediately throbbed with yen. I reached up, taking him in my hand, and enjoying his weight. Then I slid my thumb over the tip, rubbing in the moisture that had developed there, relishing the twitch I received in response, and treasuring the manifestation of his hunger for me.

Subsequently, my view ascended toward the apple orbs I hadn't seen since his pursuit for encouragement and comfort. That face was replaced by one of a tranquil and ardent man, the one who'd captivated me from the start. I felt a genuine affection for both forms, as they each exemplified deep care for me. Furthermore, they encompassed _him_, and I cherished every ounce of Edward Cullen.

* * *

**A/N**: Thanks for your patience. As you see, it's hard to post on holidays (and perhaps even weekends). **Don't worry**. It's nowhere near over yet. ;)

I dedicate this chapter to **juliebutterfly**, since the entire boat concept was her idea. She writes a B&E fic of her very own, as well as a couple of Emmett and Rosalie fics. Please check her out!


	28. Amalgamate

**Word Prompt**: Use the following words: hotel room, cell phone, alarm clock

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

Edward leaned in, still on his knees, with me slowly stroking him, and pressed his lips to mine. His fingers combed through my loose and ruffled hair, tugging it gently. I gripped him a bit tighter, stirred by his kiss, and a small grunt fell into my mouth, in answer.

This was it. We were really going to do this. It was far better than I might have pictured my next time being with someone. I hadn't been taken to a hotel room after a cheesy dinner, filled with inconsequential conversing. I wasn't doing this just because I had no other options and had decided to settle. It wasn't just some guy who was _nice enough_, as I often said. I was with Edward.

He was tender, giving, alluring, and appeared to be entranced by me. Every single touch was undoubtedly intended for my benefit. And all that mattered was _us_. We were together, fervent, and attentive to one another.

Things like cell phones and alarm clocks were of no concern. We weren't bothered by the fact that we'd been drifting in the ocean, on an unanchored sail boat, or that we were squeezing onto a bench just barely large enough for one. I wasn't even worried over what he thought of my uncovered casing, and he appeared undisturbed by such details as his shorts still constricting his legs.

Once more, he began to lay me back. There wasn't a qualm within me about whether this was where I wanted to be and what I wished to be doing. Yet, something in the back of my mind nagged for attention. There was some important component that I needed to remember.

And then it hit me; such an obvious piece of the puzzle that it was nearly missed. I delicately broke the kiss, with a warm smile. "Edward… Do you, um—"

"Oh…" he interjected, obviously being struck by the same reality. He smirked, a little embarrassed but mostly thoughtful, and peered around the small room. We were frozen in place, except for his revolving eyes. I still held him in my hand and he continued kneeling, with his underwear just above his knees. Then his eyes widened with enthusiasm. "Oh! Yes."

He reached behind him and grabbed the jeans he'd kicked off without me having noticed. He dug through a back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Then he fumbled through it, hunting but not completely remembering where he'd stored the object of interest.

"I almost forgot," he pronounced. Finally, a satisfied smile emerged from his lightly reddened and swollen lips. He pulled out a small, red, square package with faintly warn white print scribed over its entirety. Then he explained, a tad sheepishly, "Alice gave this to me a while ago."

I inclined a brow. "A while?"

"Um…yeah. It's been in here for…maybe a couple of years."

A silly bubble of gusto puffed behind my ribs, as I registered that we'd both be sharing this after a long wait. Although it likely wasn't the reaction he anticipated, I beamed at him, delighted. Then I took the tiny packet from him and carefully tore open its contents, while he shuffled out of his shorts, at last.

Looking from Edward to the condom, I mentally fretted that perhaps we'd have a problem. The ring looked a bit small for his size. But I proceeded, hopeful that my eyes were misjudging.

After clasping the tip of the lubricated latex and successfully rolling it over the top of him, I began to struggle with moving it down further. His hands joined mine and we insistently eased it down together. Then we grinned at each other with relief.

When his hands parted, and only mine were left at the base, I noticed that his complexion had darkened some. "Is this okay?"

He nodded, still smiling, and moved toward me. When we'd flattened, and his weight and lips had returned to me, I couldn't help but moan from the sensory overload. I rapidly grasped that I'd never tire of kissing him because each time was as frenzying as the first. I felt him everywhere. His brawn was like like a supple wall and I almost wanted him to keep pressing through to my limits. I felt so protected within his embrace.

However, what nearly sent me over the edge was when his solid length met my center. His lips rallied at my neck, as he slid between my folds, and against my swollen and thumping clit. I gasped when he shifted frontwards, coating himself in the wetness that had collected there, and whimpered when he spoke of the sensation.

"Soaking…You're…Oh, God…"

Inside, I was becoming wild for him to give me what I needed. I had lost track of how long he'd been teasing me, here on this miniature ship. But regardless to my famine, I knew that Edward was doing right by me. He was taking his time and that was what I needed.

His crown slipped over my entrance and he sloped to meet my eyes. I placed my hands upon his face, pulling his lips back to me. And just before we joined, I whispered, "Go slow."

He nodded, kissing me, and pushed passed the threshold. Just that little amount was gratifying enough to make me want to cry out. He drew back, just a touch, and then drove further. I kissed him hard, flooded by the feel of him expanding and filling me. He continued leisurely propelling back and forth, inserting more with each lap. By the last inch or so, I'd shoved my hips upward, to meet his and envelop him wholly.

I squeezed my hands between us, then slithered over his pecks and around to his sides. Next, I curved up to his back, clinging and squishing him against me. Again, the constant feeling that we were never close enough hovered, steering my fruitless attempt to permanently meld us together.

He rambled against my lips while I replied with calls of his name.

"Soft… Silky…"

"Edward."

"Warm… Tight…"

"Oh, Edward…"

"Beautiful… So Beautiful…"

"Yes, Edward…"

"You're everything..."

Each movement and remark swelled my chest and I felt my eyes pricking from the overwhelming emotions he spawned. I'd been waiting years for him and it seemed that my patience had been rewarded tenfold. I reached for his round, but unyielding, backside and did what I could to help him dive deeper. Whatever there was to access inside me, I wanted him to take it and keep it for himself. I was all his.

His pace had quickened and I was panting, out of breath and time. I almost couldn't believe the veracity. Edward was going to bring me the release I'd gone without for so long. He held me tighter, kissed me more eagerly, and heaved himself into the depths of me, until I could no longer call out his name because my breath was trapped in my lungs. My lids stiffened and every tendon in me tensed as my muscles contracted around him.

White lights twinkled in the forced darkness and my ears pulsed with my heart beat, from the intense explosion occurring around me. I could feel my entire body flush with heat and my follicles buzzed from my toes to my scalp. He continued moving in me, spurring the waves, until he huffed my name in one last plunge and collapsed.

"Bella… My Bella."

* * *

**A/N**: There was actually one more prompt that I couldn't figure out how to use in this. *hides face in shame* It was social worker. But, I'm hoping the overall subject matter makes up for it.

Three more prompts... I'm sure you guys have some questions about what I'm doing with this story, afterwords. The truth is, I'm not entirely sure yet. I know enough about these characters to continue the story and have many ideas. I just have to choose which route to go. So, in case I don't figure it out before the last chapter, please author alert me so that you'll know if I continue posting with a new title. My _intentions _are to continue this in some form.

I dedicate this chapter and the next one to **einfach mich**, because she really helped me figure out how to incorporate a few important plot bunnies. Her stories are pure genius and I highly recommend you check them out. You'll be pwnd within the first couple of paragraphs, I swear.


	29. Unstable

**A/N: **The prompts for the 29th didn't fit with my story very well so I decided to utilize a liberal interpretation of one of them, instead.

**Scenario: **How do you feel? The drug is wearing off and soon you'll be able to remember…

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

It had been a couple of minutes and I was still shaking. I lifted my hand to my line of sight and watched as it trembled in the soft light. While the sun hadn't set, it was much lower in the sky, implying that night fall wasn't far off.

I shifted my fingers and observed the reflecting beams. My hands felt frail and unsteady, as though if I tried to hold anything, I wouldn't be able to grip it properly. As Edward slid his nose over my cheeks and kissed around my ear, somehow sending yet more spasms through me, I realized that I had never in my life experienced anything like this before.

"Wow. Is it always...? I mean… With you.... Do you always...? God, I'm not even sure what I'm trying to say."  
_  
_"I'm not sure, either. How do you feel?" He gently combed through my hair, sweeping it away from my face. His voice was horse and he was slightly winded. Apparently, even athletes became exerted from sex.

"I feel like… Jell-O," I tried, "and… I can't breathe. I mean, obviously I'm breathing but, it's like I've been swimming for miles." My lungs were tight, as if constricted by something more than his weight upon my chest, and each breath stretched them to a new limit. And I felt completely disjointed, like my limbs had separated from the rest of me. I could guess that it was anything but safe for me to stand, given the circumstances combined with my deficit in grace.

"Is that bad?" he probed, not actually sounding worried.

"It's incredible."

"You're incredible." He brought his lips to mine and tenderly kissed me, slipping his tongue between them while brushing his fingers over my cheek. I met him at the crease of my mouth and my shuddering hands found their way to his abundant, mellifluous mane, tugging, and relishing the feel of it around them.

Gradually drawing away, he frowned, curiously. "Bella, that wasn't the first time—"

"No," I interrupted, in a small voice, and shaking my head languidly. I'd bet the lotto that, even in my haze and with him atop me, naked, _that _question had me blushing something awful. "To whichever you were about to ask. No virgins here and, well, I've had...umm…yeah. But it _was _the first… It's just never felt that way before."

He returned to my ear and spoke just above a whisper, teasingly. "You can have sex with me but you're embarrassed to talk about your orgasm?"

I gasped with my mouth open, in shock over his words. My breathing stood no chances of ever returning to normal if he insisted on stirring it every chance he got. "I'm not embarrassed."

"_Right_. Of course you're not." He snickered in my ear.

"I'm not!" I argued, in spite of myself. What was the point in lying when I had ruby boilers for cheeks? "And it's not like you volunteered to be first for show and tell."

"I'll show and tell you anything you want to know." He started kissing down my neck.

"Two years?" I blurted out. I hardly expected the words myself.

"Longer..." he clarified, indifferently.

"_Really_?" He nodded against me, without breaking his delicate touching and tasting. "You seem… practiced."

"It's like riding a bicycle." He seemed entirely complacent, sighing and shrugging. Then he looked back to me with a grin. I quirked a brow at his smug commentary. Subsequently, he began gliding his lips over my tingling skin and kissing me in between his words. "I'm joking, Bella. It's you; only you. It's never been this way for me before, either."

Was that possible, or was it simply that no other women had ever melted over him like I did? I found both situations hard to believe. Edward could easily have his pick from the cream of the crop and someone that would make him feel the way I felt at the moment. Furthermore, he seemed to come sealed with some sort of ecstasy guarantee. Every facet of this man was developed purely to generate pleasure. Surely the women from his past felt the same.

_Don't you always leave woman quaking? Aren't providing epic orgasms something you're known for? Or am _I_ simply so intoxicated by you that just one touch is nearly enough to send me into convulsions?_

He took my lobe between his teeth, licking the plump tissue between them. Instinctively, my muscles clenched from the sensation of his soft lips and warm breath against my tender flesh and I felt him twitch inside of me. He chuckled and it pulsed through me before the sounds registered, creating yet another tremble.

"Maybe I should get cleaned up."

"Maybe you should." While I'd agreed, my tone and accompanying sigh illustrated an unmistakable pout.

"I'll try to be quick."

"Okay." I answered a little more positively, causing him to chuckle more.

He reached for the blanket on the floor and slung behind him, over our legs. "You might want that while I'm gone."

"…So thoughtful," I mused.

He smiled like a kid who'd just enjoyed his favorite attraction at an amusement park. Then he reached between us and began to ease from me, hissing a bit as though it tickled. He caught himself, ensuring he didn't lose anything, and then hopped up, rushing to the small bathroom. He walked so quickly I could hardly take all of him in, but what I did see was enough to make me want to flail about, suddenly exhilarated.

I bit my lip, still rickety and yet already missing the feel of him joined with me. I'd known his legs were long but seeing them uncovered was entirely different. They were taut and defined, with his dense muscles on display. They flexed with each step he took, demanding the attention of anyone witnessing the movement. And the smooth contours of his back curved like an arrow pointing directly to his spherical yet solid ass.

I curled to my side, facing the wall, and enveloped myself in the quilt, completely blissful. The potential giggle fit I'd sensed verging when I first entered this boat was far more probable now. I was buzzing and could so vividly remember having him draped around me that he may as well have still been laying right next to me.

Though, after a few minutes, the memory wasn't enough. Why should I imagine him with me when I could have him for real? "Edward, I don't think we share the same definition for quick."

He didn't answer and I naturally turned to see what I couldn't hear. The dim light from the bathroom implied that the door was open and that my voice should have easily reached his location. So why the silence?

I rose from the bench, wrapping myself in the cover as if it were a robe, and walked to where I expected he'd be. I found him in front of the sink, staring at the condom still in his hand. He somehow seemed paler, and his expression was one of defeat.

"Edward?"

More silence. I counted to sixty in my head, trying to be patient and see if he'd realize I was standing there and had spoken to him. When I reached fifty three, his mouth shifted, as if he were trying to remember how to utilize his voice. I stepped closer and then stopped when his eyes closed.

"It tore."

"What?" I asked, sure that I'd heard him wrong.

"The condom… It tore."

* * *

**A/N**: Thank you for your patience and support. All of your reviews were wonderful. It's interesting to watch everyone trying to guess what's going on. With that said, this chapter took so long because I wanted to have some answers for you before I posted.

Again, thank you to **einfach mich** and **juliebutterfly **for helping me work through these last few chapters. They are for you.

**DECISIONS**: I signed up for TT25 shortly after I began WitFit and have lucked out that the prompt situation fits well into the theme that I have going for this story. So, the follow-up will be **EPOV of Idylle Incité**. It WILL be posted under **a different name**. So, please author alert me if you haven't already, or else you won't know when it's up.

I hope to update at least twice weekly. And while the time line and many events will be the same, it should also have many differences because Bella and Edward aren't always together and he has more people involved in his life than she does. Furthermore, you'll get to see what's really going on behind some of his mystery.


	30. Qualm

**Prompt**: Use the following words: beagle, boat, grass, steering wheel.

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

Thank you **einfach mich** for the pre-read. ILY!

* * *

"Bella?" Edward swept the blanket up from the floor and wrapped it back around me. How had it gotten there in the first place? I swayed but I couldn't tell if it was my balance faltering or the rocking boat. He pulled me against his bare chest and repeated, huskily, "Bella—"

"Sorry... I'm okay." I reassured, blinking out of my daze.

I'd spaced for a moment, lost in the mental loop of what had just unfolded before me. I couldn't make enough sense of it to produce a reaction. I felt him push my hair behind my ears and then cup my face, searching my eyes with his.

"We should get dressed," I continued. "You don't want to be late."

His expression wilted, but not my much. Then he nodded, once, and slowly released me. After a few moments, I realized he wouldn't be the first to move and walked back toward the bench to gather my clothes.

Neither of us said much else after that. The drive home was heavy with unspoken words, though which exactly weren't clear. It seemed that we should be saying something, but I couldn't even assemble an appropriate response let alone articulate one.

He stopped the car in front of my apartment and we sat, waiting. I watched a small plot of grass at the edge of the sidewalk rustle with the wind. A little girl laughed and squealed from a neighboring park. Beyond the quiet stillness of the car's enclosure, everything continued on its course, unaltered by the changes that had taken place for us today.

I felt Edward's hand curl around mine and lightly squeeze. His touch was warm and comforting. With everything considered, the energy amid us was still palpable. I wished I was small enough to curl into a ball and take shelter in the protection of that hand. I squeezed back and brushed my thumb over a nearby knuckle, appreciating the affectionate gesture.

"Bella..." he began, but dithered. I looked over and saw his other hand still gripping the bottom of the steering wheel. It was mostly colorless, except for the reddened points of strain. He wanted to say something but was obviously unsatisfied with his options.

"Call me later?" I offered, sparing him from having to settle.

"Of course."

I leaned forward, bringing him to me by the cheek, to kiss him goodbye. When I felt him melt against me, sighing a little, I threw every fleeting emotion that I couldn't so much as utter into the kiss. He freed the wheel, combing his fingers through my hair, and the ache to tell him anything, at all, grew as I breathed him in. There were simply no words.

Then, for the first time, _I_ pulled away, resting my head along his lips while I tried to find some level of calm. I dropped my hand from his face, pressing it to his shirt and using him to lift myself up. I attempted a soft smile.

"We'll talk soon," I said.

His eyes fell to our joined hands, seeming to look right through them. I clutched once more and then let it go, making my way out of the car. I pulled the door open but only got that far before he called for me.

"Bella…" he tried once more, wavering yet again. I waited exactly ten seconds before the unfinished words became too much. I smiled at him, consolingly, and then I hopped out, without looking back.

*****

It was only five thirty. The prospect of being home early enough to do a load of laundry and maybe some cleaning before dinner seemed perfect, initially. However, now that I was alone with an abundance of time on my hands, doing chores was the last thing I wanted.

I found my way to my room, collapsed on my bed, and laid there. I was both mentally and physically exhausted, yet completely awake. Every time I shut my lids, the image of Edward's expression as he stared into the sink replayed itself for me.

The picture was so broken. It was remorseful, indignant, and trepid. The lack of pigment in his face combined with the hardness of his eyes and downward curl of his lips seemed explicit. He didn't need to form the words for me to understand their meaning.

Regret, disappointment, and panic.

He felt being with me today, like that, was a mistake. That we– _he_ – should have known better. He wanted to take it back.

He was undoubtedly berating himself. He was ashamed, as if he'd let himself down. He'd given into the moment and believed it was wrong.

He was afraid. The idea of me becoming pregnant clearly troubled him. That was not what he wanted.

Something I'd thought to be beautiful and extraordinary had become reprehensible with one little tear of thin plastic. He was so plainly filled with guilt and doubt… But how..? How could the warmth and conviction I'd witnessed just handful of minutes before evaporate so quickly? How could he not reciprocate the intensity I felt for what we'd shared?

I understood being worried. I wasn't prepared for kids. I'd considered getting a beagle once and had even faltered on that. I lived in a one bedroom apartment and worked anywhere from fifty to sixty hours a week. Furthermore, Edward and I had only dated for about a week. Creating a child together, so soon, was anything but ideal for a number of reasons.

I could relate to struggling with the misfortune. I was no stranger to bad luck. How inopportune was it that our first time would be tainted by a broken condom? Of course the only ounce of attachment either of us had allowed ourselves to feel for someone else and savor, after such a long time, would end up this way.

Finally, I could easily comprehend the basic, _'Fuck, now what do we do?'_ reaction that would naturally go through someone's mind. It's an over whelming situation to be in and answering all of the questions that tie into it is difficult to do in the best of circumstances. However, what I saw from him was deeper rooted than any of those things and it had my stomach in knots.

Even with the ill-fated outcome, I couldn't bring myself to regret the decision. It was earth shattering for me. The only disgrace I felt was over the conception that I may have coaxed him into something he didn't really want to do with me.

It was soon. We'd taken a big step quickly, before we'd hashed anything out. But for once I'd just wanted to let myself feel and I'd thought he'd wanted that too. I knew neither of us had promised forever but we seemed to be so connected. I'd never been so drawn to someone; never as sure as I had become with him.

Now all I saw were his many hesitations. I found myself plaguing over what I was missing; trying to identify that yet to be provided piece. His marriage hadn't worked. He couldn't give her what she wanted. Was he really that opposed to having children?

We hadn't made any commitments to each other. Was he upset about potentially being bound to me for a lifetime? Was I not who he'd pictured settling down with?

For the tiniest second, the reflection of a small green eyed boy with sunlit hair and a cotton candy smile flickered through my mind and my insides clenched. It was insane! I'd never even imagined myself with a family – as a mother – and here I was, after just a few days with Edward, mourning a concept that I couldn't have considered a week ago.

And it was the exact situation that I'd feared, coming to light. Falling for _Mr._ _Break-your-heart-into-a-thousand-pieces Wonderful_. Becoming so wrapped up in a man that I lost track of who I knew myself to be. Wanting someone more than they wanted me.

* * *

**A/N:** You're used to this by now, right? I kid, I kid. I'm sure you're tying a hate letter around a rock as we speak. BUT I have a gift with purchase for you.

**PLEASE READ**: This cliffy results in an additional chapter. That's right, we'll round this out at a total of 32 chapters. Forgive me?

**IMPORTANT**: Please **"Author Alert"** me if you'd like to be notified when the sequel posts. I'm SO grateful for the faves and story alerts but those will not inform you of a new story. I thought you'd all like the clarification.


	31. Lucidity

**A/N**: This unplanned chapter allowed me to utilize a past prompt that I'd had a hard time passing up. It's from December 17.

**Prompt**: What does the adage "heavy lies the head that wears the crown" make you think of?

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

I heard a loud hissing, incredibly close to my ear, and attempted to swat it away. Not only was the noise irritating, I was worried that whatever was causing it might land on my face and bite me. I kept reaching, flailing my hand until I finally made contact with the source, knocking it to the ground.

"Shit!" I propped myself up, shaking the pain out of my hand, and hunted for what I'd likely damaged.

My blackberry was glowing and inching its way across the carpet as it buzzed. I didn't remember doing so but evidently, at some point during my fretting, I'd fallen asleep with phone beside me on my pillow. It was foolish considering my magnetism towards busted skin and devices.

After a handful of seconds, I realized I was about to miss the call and shuffled for the phone, still half asleep. Predictably, my toe caught on the comforter, dragging it off of the bed along with me. "Damn it! Hello?"

"Bella? Is everything alright?"

"It's fine." I huffed, rolling back onto my bed, even more exhausted. " … Just another case of case of hurricane Bella, terrorizing unsuspecting linens. What's up, Angela?"

"Sorry to bother you on the weekend, while you're _sleeping_...?" She was anything but subtle. "I didn't actually think you'd pick up. I figured you'd be out and was just going to leave a message."

"It's cool. I'm home. What'd you need?"

"Oh, well the hospital just called with that automated reminder about Seth's checkup on Tuesday and I forgot to reschedule with you. I'm thinking of coming in after lunch. Do you have any time open on your calendar?"

Seth was her son. The fact that she managed to juggle a career while being a wife and mother had always mesmerized me. She was just a few years older than me and I couldn't begin to imagine how she did it.

"Um..." I didn't want to scroll through my calendar while I was on the cell but was still fuzzy from having just woken up. "I think I'm open at four. Will that work?"

"Yup! That's perfect. Thanks, Bella."

"Sure. No biggie." I lingered for a few moments, not wanting to seem like I was in a rush to hang up, because I wasn't, but also not sure what else there was to say. Of course, after a long yawn, the oh-so-perceptive Angela took care of that for me.

"So why are you home right now, _sleeping_?"

"I'm always home, Angela."

"You didn't go out with Edward, today?"

"_No_..."

"No you didn't or no you did."

"I did." I yawned again and she waited for me to explain, as she always did when I was being cryptic. "He had to work, tonight."

"Hmm…"

"What? He did," I contended.

"What aren't you telling me?" she prodded.

"Everything. I've said exactly nothing."

"No... Even if you'd said more, you would have left something out on purpose."

"What are you talking about?" I didn't have the energy for this.

"Bella, you get defensive when you're trying to cover something up, as if you've already been accu—" The phone beeped, cutting off the end of her sentence and rescuing me from her interrogation.

"That's the other line. It's probably my mom. Can we just talk on—" It beeped, again.

"Sure. See you Monday."

"Great, thanks." I clicked over on the third beep, without waiting for a response, worried I might not catch the new caller. "Hello?"

"Bella? Did I wake you?"

"Hi Edward. No, you didn't." Even though he'd said he would call, for some reason I didn't expect it to be him.

"I was wondering whether or not you'd already had dinner."

I fumbled around for my watch on my night stand, too worn out to bother looking over for it. _Eight thirty?_ No wonder it was so dark.

"No. I guess I fell asleep."

"So I did wake you."

"No really, you didn't." After a long pause, I realized he was waiting for me to resume. "You were saying..."

"Are you hungry?"

"I don't know. I hadn't really thought about it." There wasn't a single thing I could think of that might seem appetizing, even from him.

"I could bring you something…"

"That's okay. It's sort of late to eat and we had a big lunch. I think I'll be fine if I skip it."

"Oh," he said, a little thwarted. Then, silence. That wasn't the answer he was hoping for.

"But you can still come over."

"I didn't mean to... I mean, if you're busy."

"I'm not busy." I should have sounded eager, exhibiting the way he always made me feel, but instead I appeared depleted.

"If you're sure..."

"I am. See you soon."

"Actually, I have a confession. I know it was presumptuous of me but… I'm already here. I just needed to see you."

"Oh." Perhaps I was supposed to be put off by that but I couldn't bring myself to feel that way. Even still, he very well could have merely been on his way to end things in person, but I hoped that wasn't the case. "Well, come up. I'm in 4B."

Moving at a snail's pace, I hauled my lethargic self out of bed and made my way to the front room. Late-day naps simply weren't a good idea for me. I'd likely be out of it for the rest of the evening. I opened the front door just as he was about to knock and he dropped his fist, shoving both hands in his pockets.

"Hi," he said, awkwardly.

"Come in." He smirked at me, patiently hinting that I'd need to move out from the doorway in order for him to do so. "Oops."

I turned around and returned straight to my room. After being still for so long, I was freezing and wanted to get back under the covers. Edward followed, settling along the edge of my bed while I tried to get warm. Then, the oddity of the situation dawned on me.

"I thought the restaurant was open late on Saturdays."

"It is. Alice sent me home."

"Why?"

"I ruined a soufflé."

"Is that bad?" Couldn't he have just made another? I frowned, confused, but he couldn't see because I was lying on my side and my face was pointed at the wall instead of him.

"It is for me. I rarely make such errors. She said there was no point in hanging around in body if I wasn't there in mind."

"That probably makes sense." I didn't know how to be comforting about that.

He sighed, deep and weighty. "Bella, I'm sorry."

"What for?" This was it. He was going to let me down easy.

"A number of things. I don't even know where to begin."

"Do you…?" Without my permission, a couple of the thousand plus words flowing through my mind slipped out.

"Yes?" he encouraged.

"Do you… wish we hadn't…?"

"Hadn't what?" I couldn't say it. My chest already stung at the thought of it. I couldn't bear having to utter the words. I tucked the blanket further over me, trying to smother the sudden nausea. "Bella, you don't mean… You think I regret sleeping with you?"

"Don't you?" My voice was so small I wasn't sure he'd heard it.

"No. Of course not. How could you think such a thing?" He was slightly offended but mostly forlorn.

"You just seemed…" I still hadn't found my voice. His words simply didn't fit with his previous demeanor. "Repentant."

"You have no idea."

I wanted to believe him but I didn't understand. If not me, or us, what was was he so ashamed of? "Tell me?"

"I want to. I'm just not sure… I don't know where to be begin."

I peered up then, incapable of resisting the despair in his tenor. He looked so dejected. I mustered what little confidence remained within me and held my hand out to him.

He took it, without hesitation but also clearly felt unworthy. Then he lay behind me, atop the comforter. With the hand I grasped, I pulled his arm around my waist and he nestled into my hair.

"Thank you," he whispered. I only nodded, unable to articulate how instant the relief of having him near was. He intertwined our fingers, rubbing my skin with his thumb, and I relaxed a tad more. "Are you scared?"

"A little," I answered, honestly. He pulled me closer to him and I felt him kiss my clothed shoulder. Finally, he took a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever it was he was trying to say.

"Tanya was pregnant before she left."

I did everything in my power not to react. I didn't stiffen, shift, or contain my breath. I acted as if he'd said it might rain tomorrow, which wasn't actually that unheard of for San Francisco.

"She lost the baby," he continued.

I squeezed his hand, entirely lost for words but wanting to console and support him in some way. Part of me was heartbroken for the both of them. Another could only fathom how difficult something like that must have been. And yet one other was beginning to connect some of the dots.

"The worst part…" He tried to go on but hesitated.

I raised his hand to my lips, lightly sliding it over them. I knew this was hard for him. It meant so much for him to try… I needed him to feel safe enough to proceed.

His tone became even lower, disgraced. "I didn't know. She didn't tell me."

"That she was…?" I finally spoke, unsure.

"Anything," he elaborated, "I mean, I didn't even see what was right before my eyes, every day. I was so fixed in my own… My wife was pregnant and didn't feel she could tell me. She lost the baby and couldn't find solace in me. She left shortly after…"

He truly _was _broken, but not for the reasons I'd thought. I could sense how inept he felt. How heavy his self stricken burden of failure and foreboding was for him to carry around.

I turned to face him. He needed to at least see the compassion I couldn't verbalize. "Edward…"

"I don't want to repeat my mistakes. And here I am making you feel like… Bella, today was… I wouldn't change anything. I only wish I had been better to you instead of wallowing in my own self repugnance."

"Ssshhh. Don't." I placed my fingers over his lips to quiet him. "I see, now."

It wasn't easy watching him this way: disjointed and guilt ridden. Furthermore, it wasn't necessary; not anymore. We could move forward.

He shifted closer, resting his head against mine. I combed my fingers through his hair and felt him thaw beside me. I recited the only words that came to mind.

"_Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown._"

And he trailed,_ "…O gentle sleep,  
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,  
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down__  
And steep my senses in forgetfulness?"_

* * *

**A/N**: The meaning of the quote is, "A person with great responsibilities, such as a king, is constantly worried." It originates from Shakespeare's Henry IV. Part II, 1597 (_Source: www(dot)phrases(dot)org_).

If you follow me on **Twitter (KayCannon1)**, you know that work has been kicking my ass, royally, this week. So, as always, I appreciate you patience. I'll have more info for you about the follow-up to this in the next (last) chapter. Thanks everyone, for hanging in here with me. I love you all and am beyond humbled by the love this story has received.

**einfach mich**, thank you SO much helping me figure this out and pre-reading. I'd be lost without you. And another huge thanks to my sis, **Dahlia Black** for creating the most incredible banner for me. The link is posted on my profile if you'd like to check it out, which you should. She writes the most creative Jake/Bella/Edward story I've read (made me a fan and I'm 100% Team Edward), named _**Fix You**_. It's been nom'd for several awards so you should take a peak at it, as well.


	32. Loom

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

I stood in the kitchen, fiddling with the bottle in my hand, wondering if this was really the best way to tell him the news. I could hand it to him and blurt it out the second he stepped through the door. I could ask him to have a seat and place it on the table in front of him. I could not use it at all.

I just wasn't sure whether or not this was something to celebrate. Would he be glad or disappointed? I wanted to believe that we'd become close enough for me to gage how he felt about things. However, the fact that we'd managed to be so careful about what we discussed, avoiding this specific topic by just about any means, didn't do anything to build my confidence in that.

For the most part, there were only small things between us that highlighted the ambiguity of the situation. Conversations didn't involve anything further out than what we'd like to do the next day. Neither of us wanted to bring up the future with such a big _if_ hovering.

In fact, the last true acknowledgement of it was me admitting to being scared when he'd asked. I was, of course, anxious and worried about what I – _we_ – would do if I did turn out to be pregnant (a word I couldn't even pronounce at the time). However, much of the actual fear, itself, had begun to abate as early as the morning after.

_I was too comfortable; too warm. My frugal tendencies had caused me to purchase an inexpensive mattress that typically left my back and neck sore. Furthermore, even during the summer, most city mornings were fairly cold. I felt foolish turning on my tiny space heater in August and opted to just suffer through it. So being this relaxed in my own bed was anything but normal._

_Something feather light brushed over the side of my face. My tender hand's reminder of the zombie phone whacking incident prevented me from duplicating that particular reaction. Instead, I composedly opened my eyes to assess the potential cause, wincing against the bright morning, but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. I started to turn, to have a better look around, but quickly realized I was pinned in place._

_I stilled, confounded, just as the quill like stroke returned to my skin. Something told me to be alarmed – that this was unusual and I should be cautious. Yet, I yearned to lean into the delicate touch. I wanted more._

_Suddenly, I understood why. "You stayed."_

"_I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."_

_I tried to turn again and he loosened his hold to allow me. It was difficult to believe what I couldn't see, even if I could feel and hear him. The scene I met on the other side outshined anything I could have imagined on my own._

"_Morning." I smiled, still a little unconvinced. I'd never woken up beside anyone in this bed. No one had ever even been in the apartment this early before._

"_Good morning. How'd you sleep?" he asked. I smiled wider as he continued caressing my cheek._

"_Well. What about you?" I tore my gaze from his peering, sun-twinkled pears and realized he was still on top of the comforter. "Wait, why—"_

"_I wasn't sure…" he explained, "I didn't want to intrude."_

_He'd spent the entire night embracing me, above the covers. Edward didn't have an intrusive bone in his body. I placed my hand over his, upon my face._

"_Impossible…"I ensured. He grinned and came close enough to kiss between my brows._

"_I hate to say this but, I have to be going soon."_

"_Already?" I complained. Finding him beside me had been such a lovely surprise that I'd almost forgotten what brought him here in the first place. As reality set in, I grasped how unready I was to be alone again._

_He swept my hair behind my ear, with his lips still perched over skin. "I pick out my produce and things on Sundays. The early bird gets the worm, you know?"_

"_Oh." I couldn't exactly ask him to neglect his priorities just to save me from isolation._

"_I wish I could stay. Truly I do," he tried to ease. I sulked, silently, assuming he couldn't tell. However, as they say about assumptions… "But I could come back; tonight."_

_He sounded more like he was asking if he could, rather than offering to. We both appeared to require reassurance at the moment. "I think you should."_

_He kissed above my brow, once more, palpably relieved. "All right."_

"_How long do you have?"I solicited._

"_There's still a little time." I tried to sit up and was only able to do so because he shifted with me. I tugged at the covers and he rolled away so that I could pull them back._

"_Get in," I insisted. He chuckled but rushed to do as I asked. He held me until he really did have to leave and that feeling of calm and security I'd felt before began to piece itself back together._

He'd returned that evening, as promised, and we'd cooked dinner together. In other words, I'd handed him the ingredients he needed and kept him company while he cooked for me. He had let me do a little chopping but he'd cut up triple what I had in less time. I probably slowed him down more than anything.

Cooking was visibly something Edward allowed himself to become enveloped in. He moved so gracefully: dicing, stirring, and tossing. All frown-lines and grimaces – not that there were ever many – dissolved as he almost instinctively created something delectable out of scraps.

We seemed to be in some sort of limbo. It was good to spend the time and be together; much better than being apart. We undoubtedly longed for the sense of surety that resulted locality. However, we were quieter, each of us processing in our own way.

After, we sat on the couch and I turned on the television, mostly to drown out the silence. He cradled me against him and I watched the black and white pictures of _An Affair to Remember_ scroll across the screen, cherishing his heat and affection – needing it to keep me from agonizing over something I couldn't really do anything about. It was easier to pass the time – time that would seem endless as I waited – when I wasn't alone with my thoughts.

As I'd traced over the exposed skin of his arm and he'd repeatedly untangled my tresses, I'd eventually fallen asleep. The uncertain conditions notwithstanding, I'd somehow slept better than I could remember resting since I was very young and much more agile. He must have carried me to my room because I'd awaken in my bed the next morning, with a note on the spare pillow.

_I'm sorry you're waking up alone but I promised to have breakfast with Alice. We fell asleep on the couch and I brought you to bed before I left this morning. I'll miss the beautiful flush of your skin as the sun pulls you from your slumber._

_Call me when you can._

_Edward_

Things had become slightly unbalanced for us. Understandably, we'd, strayed from the path we were on. It was as if he'd stepped from behind the wheel, handed me the keys, and was willing to take whichever seat I offered him. I appreciated him giving me time and space, if I needed it, but I didn't need or want it.

The next couple of days at work had been busy enough to occupy the more worrisome portion of my thoughts. I'd left earlier than normal so many days the week before that I'd had some catching up to do. Combining the familiarity of my old life with Angela's and my conversation during our meeting, and I'd begun to feel more and more conflicted.

_I walked into the conference room, scrambling from all of the meetings I'd been in that day and the deliverables that had come out of them. I was surprised to see that Angela had beaten me for a change. She was sitting at the large oval table, starring into her coffee blankly, and abruptly broke into a yawn._

"_Long night?" I questioned._

"_Yeah. Seth's teething. He was up all night and then he didn't do so well at the doctor's today. He simply had no patience for being poked and prodded at after getting so little sleep."_

"_Sorry, Angela."_

"_Just one of the many joys of parenthood." With that, I plopped into my seat and fought back a huff. She raised a brow at me and I mentally kicked myself for nearly forgetting about her insightfulness. "So how was your weekend?"_

"_Fine, thanks." I replied, casually. I responded to an unimportant email on my laptop, trying to appear blasé and unaffected. "You want to get started?"_

"_Sure; as soon as you tell me what happened."_

_I looked over to her, controlling my tone. "What do you mean?"_

"_You can't get all red like that and expect me not to notice."_

_Naturally, my blush would betray me. "What do you want me to say?"_

"_I don't want you to say anything you don't want to say, Bella, but…"_

"_What?"_

"_Look, in three years, I've never heard you talk about friends or anyone you were dating. And we pretty much only talk about work. I just figure you might like someone to talk to." She really was the closest thing to a friend I'd ever had and she knew me much better than I might have guessed._

"_Thank you. I really am grateful, even if it doesn't always seem that way. And it's not as if I don't want to talk. It's more that I'm not sure if I can." _

_I didn't know if I was ready. Saying it would make it too real. I hadn't even talked about it with him, yet. _

"_You can try." In truth, some advice might be helpful. It had to be better than the circles I was swimming in my mind whenever I had enough downtime to flounder._

"_Goodness, I don't even know where to start. This is just so awkward."_

"_Bella, I've heard and seen just about everything that I haven't done myself. There's no judgment here."_

_I inhaled deep and audibly, gathering the strength I needed to admit this aloud. "All right. You want to know? Here it goes. Edward and I had sex on Saturday and the condom broke."_

"_Oh." Her eyes fell, uneasily. She was right to react that way. What else might I have expected?_

"_Yup. I slept with the first guy I've dated in years, after just a week, and now I might be pregnant. It's like a fairytale romance," I added, sarcastically. _

"_Bella…"She attempted to reach a hand out to me, benevolently, but it was too late. Once I let it out, I couldn't reign myself back in._

"_No. It's cool. I mean, I pretty much asked for it. I was being irresponsible and now I'll probably be accountable for another human life for the rest of my own, with a man who may or may not want to stick around for that long. And even if he does, what's the likelihood that we actually work out; that he won't just be hanging around for the kid we created on date three and a half."_

"_Bella, stop! You're freaking out, which is totally understandable, but let's just talk about this for a second."_

_My face fell to my palms as I pulled at my hair in frustration. Yes, I was completely freaking out. I didn't even realize I felt this way until it started spilling out of me. Though, it was possible that I was just digging up the worst case scenarios as a punishment for doing something that I thought I knew better than to do. _

"_I'm sorry. You're right. I guess I'm sort of panicking. I thought I had it under control but clearly I don't. It's just so classic, you know? This is totally something that would happen to me. I meet a wonderful guy that blows my friggin' mind and I find a way to screw it all up."_

"_Okay. Let's just take a step back. You haven't screwed anything up. Really, this could happen to anyone. And you're one of the most responsible people I know. Seriously, it's almost mind numbing how sensible you are. So I truly doubt you did this unduly. _

"_And you don't even know if you're pregnant. Most condoms have spermicide and do you know how hard it actually is to get pregnant? Timing has a lot to do with these things. I know it doesn't appear that way with all of the teen moms and accidental pregnancies but it's actually a lot more difficult to have a successful pregnancy than not. Not that I want to worry you about that but I'm just saying, you don't know."_

"_It's the not knowing part that's so hard. Waiting to find out…It's only been a couple of days. There are still so many more."_

Wednesday and Thursday were a repeat of Sunday night, with the only difference being that Edward made sure I saw him before he left in the morning. It was never actually stated that he would stay over but he didn't attempt to leave and I certainly wasn't going to ask him to. When I caught him trying to sneak away Thursday morning, I wouldn't let him go until he'd agreed to my terms. It took a lot to convince him to wake me up if he needed to take off, emphasizing that I was a morning person and preferred saying goodbye to him over an extra fifteen minutes of sleep.

As a result, in just one short week I'd become attached to sleeping with someone. Of course, it couldn't be just anyone. It was Edward: the rise and fall of _his_ chest against my back, the scent of _his_ skin as it heated through the night, and the warmth of _his_ breath along my neck.

Everything was colder and far too quiet when he wasn't around. I honestly did feel safer with him, something I'd never missed before he came along. Be it the circumstances or the barrenness, it was simply becoming more and more difficult to spend the night alone.

Friday night, after unsuccessfully trying to convince myself that I could make it one short night, because I'd done it for twenty some odd years just fine, I finally bit the bullet and asked him to come over after work. He'd offered the previous two times, claiming that he wanted to make me dinner, again. Thus, this was the first time I'd actively invited him.

I didn't even have a plan. I said we could watch a movie or something and he agreed, without the slightest ounce of hesitation. It led me to believe that he was thankful I'd asked. He even brought a bag, understanding what I meant without me having to say it.

So much had changed over a relatively short period. My entire world seemed to turn on its axis the day I'd met him. And it had somehow sped and slowed, all at once, after we'd slept together. That day altered everything for us.

He took me to the beach Saturday, saying that we should get out of the house. Really, I gathered that he was nervous about being in an enclosed space with me all day, with a bed and so many other conveniently located places to get carried away in. Conversely, that thought was ridiculous considering he'd hardly touched me over the past several days.

There were soft kisses of my cheeks and hands. He'd peck me goodbye before he left, nonverbally utilizing morning breath as an excuse. And he held me, often. But it was all very virtuous. He was adoring, as always, but detaining his fervor.

I followed his logic, whether we'd had a conversation around it or not. The whole ordeal had forced us to take our time. We couldn't hop back into bed together with so much being unknown.

But if I couldn't have all of him, did I have to settle for so little, when there was so much more to be had? Being with Edward was one of the most enlivening experiences of my lifetime. I'd never felt with anyone the way I did with him. I missed just being able to feel him, even a little.

_The waves tumbled in with a low roar and the water skated in a few feet away from where we sat. Because it was a relatively cool day, there weren't as many people on the beach as was common of this time of year. There were maybe two other small groups, on distant and opposite ends of us, and a few surfers in the ocean. It was peaceful._

"_It's wonderful out here."_

"_Haven't you been to the beach before?"he pestered. It was nice to see him joking, again. _

"_Sure I have." Once or twice, for corporate photo shoots, I didn't bother to say. "I guess I just never took the time to appreciate it."_

"_I spent a lot of time at the beach growing up; several summers with my parents and Alice." The fond memory had only brought sadness to his features. I rested my head on his shoulder, in an attempt at comfort._

"_I can't say I spent much time at the beach as a kid. There are lakes and rivers in Phoenix, though, if you're willing to get out early enough to evade the sun. Oh, but my mom did get me a sand box for the back yard."_

"_I can easily imagine a tiny Bella with her bucket and shovel in the back yard; big brown eyes and long ringlets. I'll bet she was adorable." I looked over and saw him far away, as if really seeing it play out before him. He seemed almost wistful and I wondered if he wasn't so much imagining as he was hoping._

"_Not nearly as cute as a little green eyed, golden mane Edward, chasing the waves," I whispered back. He met my eyes then, admiring. Something passed between us in that moment – some level of acknowledgment or acquiescence. _

_I'd decided there was little point in having some serious conversation about the future when it very well could have turned out to be nothing. I didn't want him making promises to me based on a possibility. I also didn't want this to shape us, especially if it didn't have to. Yet, feeling that shared adulation and the silent understanding between us was consoling, all the same._

_I fell back on the blanket, soaking in the sun that had decided to part from the clouds and grace us with its presence. Edward looked back at me and smiled. It was the most relaxed either of us had been in days. Regardless to his reasons, he was right to bring us outdoors._

_I reached out and took his arm, lightly tugging him down. He laid adjacent to me, on his side, and smoothed the back of his hand over my face, like he'd done so many times before. I lifted my head and caught his lips with mine. He kissed back but pulled away just as quickly._

_My feelings weren't hurt. He'd spent enough time with me that I was fairly certain he wanted to be here. He was most likely being precautious. Furthermore, I'd been the one to separate from our last real kiss. So I knew it had to be me to initiate the next one._

"_Edward, will you kiss me?" He smiled, concurring and then grazed over my lips, placing a delicate but slower kiss upon them. It was warm but still controlled. "Thank you, but that's not what I meant." _

"_Bella…" he nearly pleaded. He frowned, obviously knowing but having a hard time meeting my request. He was asking me not to push but I needed to feel that he still wanted me, even if it was entirely irrational. _

"_You're not going to break me and I'm not going anywhere. I get slowing down. With everything…" I sighed, realizing that bringing up the hurdle that had caused the change probably wouldn't work in my favor. "I'm just asking for a kiss. I need you…"_

"_Oh, Bella." He ceded then, almost pained as he returned to my mouth and pressed his firmly against me. I whimpered at the feel of him, so close and raw, again. My hands wrapped behind his neck, wordlessly begging him not to let go._

_As his tongue massaged over mine, I swear I almost cried. I'd never forget his taste but my memory would by no means accurately do it justice, either. Each time I consumed him the flavor went straight to my head, leaving me fuzzy and tingling. _

_He cupped my face in his hand and moaned, faintly, when I pulled him even closer. I could do this for hours. It wasn't the same as being joined with him but it was nearly as good – in some ways better. I could have as much of this as I wanted and not worry about what might result from it. As long as my breath and lips allowed, I could have this piece of him. _

_Though, ultimately and like all good things, our kiss came to an end. Like he often did, Edward broke away, but this time only at the lips. He pecked around my ear and the cheek opposite the one he held, in between his pants for air, pricking me with waves of chills. Would I ever become accustomed to being touched that way by him?_

"_God, I missed that," he confessed._

"_Me, too." I curled to my side, facing him. He brought his pointer to my puckered lips, outlining them with the pad of his finger. _

"_Let's not wait that long, again," he said, apologetically. I nodded, as he brought his lips back to mine and picked up from where he'd left off._

The following week reflected the prior one, closely. He spent almost every night with me and the couple he didn't were difficult. Then, Saturday – yesterday – we watched movies and made out on the couch until he had to leave for work. I spent the night alone and he was now on his way over for dinner.

It was strange feeling so connected to someone, after I'd spent a great deal of time on my own. So much of my days were now filled with him, in one way or another, that he was a near constant presence in my life. I simply couldn't imagine ever tiring of him or having had my fill. Though, in spite of that, I felt a little silly thinking of ever and never so soon.

Everything about the thought of forever screamed impractical, even if it was something I could easily see myself wanting with him. I just couldn't picture Edward thinking in such absolutes, given his past. Still, senselessness seemed to become less of an issue as I spent more time with him. So, while I stood here trying to decide whether or not to set the table or have us eat at the couch, I found comfort in knowing that everything had only served to bring us closer.

Upon hearing his light taps at the door, I decided to let him choose. I obviously wasn't going to be able to make up my mind on my own tonight. I opened the door and was greeted by a fretting expression.

"Hey. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Hi." He smiled but it seemed to fizzle before it got very far.

"Come in. Where do you want to eat tonight? Couch or table?" Might as well check that box, early.

"Couch?" We'd both become fond of it since we'd spent so much time there, sleeping and kissing. It felt wiser than going to the bed but it was still comfortable enough to unwind.

"Okay. Is that dinner?" He held a large brown bag and I guessed he'd brought leftovers from the restaurant.

"It is."

"Great. Can you take that in the living room and I'll get the plates and things and meet you in there?"

His head bobbed in agreement and he went to pull out the containers. I poured our drinks, collected everything, and returned to where he was waiting for me.

"Here, let me help you with that," he volunteered. He took the glasses and sat them down on the coffee table while I spooned food into the plates. "Bella, can you sit with me for a second?"

"Of course." I dropped the utensils and settled beside him. He took both of my hands in his, rubbing them with his thumbs, and stared into his lap.

"Are you sure everything's okay?" I queried.

"Yes. I don't mean to worry you. I just…" He looked up then and I thought I finally understood what was behind the expression. "I know there are a lot of things we haven't discussed but I want you to know that I'm here. You're all I want and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make this to work for us.

"…Whatever you need – decide – I'll support you. And I'm happy to take this slow but the way I feel about you… I can see it, Bella; all of it. I see you in my future, more clearly than I've ever been able to see it before. And I'm going to do things right this time."

"Edward—" I was getting choked up but I didn't want to grow attached to his words if he was only going to take them back once he knew. It was easy to speak with conviction when things were up in the air.

"Please, I'm almost finished. Bella, I want you as my girlfriend and hopefully, someday, you'll let me make you more. I want my family to know you and I'd like to know yours too. But even if you aren't ready to talk about any of this – if it's too soon – I still need you to know that I think we can do this, together."

I was biting my lip and my stomach seemed to think it was auditioning for the Olympics. I wanted him to mean it, so bad. I felt it all too – every word of it. I wanted to dive into his arms and show him better than I could tell him, but he needed to know first.

In a weak and tight voice, soaked with unshed tears, I said, "Edward, I'm not pregnant."

"You're not?" His voice was almost as low, and timid. I picked up the glasses, filled with sparkling champagne, which he'd completely overlooked in his determination, and handed one to him. He took it, looking down with confusion.

"No, I'm not."

"How do you know?"

I swallowed, loudly, past the lump in my throat and fighting down the nausea that only intensified with each moment I waited for his reaction. "It's that time of the month – right on schedule."

"You got your period?" I guess he needed to be certain. I nodded, rapidly losing my control over my ability to speak. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I mean, this is what we wanted, isn't it?" One tear trickled over, and I couldn't pinpoint exactly where it stemmed from. I was touched by his speech and that had initially created the excess of emotion but now I was also worried. What was he thinking?

"Bella…" He took the glasses and put them on the table. Then he pulled me into his arms. "Why are you crying if you're okay?"

"Because… Are you okay?"

"Of course I am," he answered, chuckling against me. "I'm a little in shock but, I meant what I said. I want to do this right and now we'll have the chance to." I eased away to look him in the eye. I was so annoyed with the whine in my voice but it seemed beyond my rule.

"Really? You want me to be your girlfriend? Because if you were just trying to make me feel okay about having a baby… If that's not really what you want—." He took my face in both of his hands, trying to stop me.

"No," he said severely. "That's not it at all. I want _you_, if you'll have me."

I nodded and let the tears fall. Wiping them away, Edward pulled me to him. He kissed me like he had the first time. Supple and deliberate at first, then the fire grew with each breath we traded and pass of our tongues.

We weren't desperate or lacking. We were complete within each other, yet somehow no less eager or frenzied. I could sense that there'd be no end to this need for each other.

This was definitely a day for celebration.

* * *

**Prompt**: Sparkling Champagne

**A/N: **In an effort to raise money for Haiti relief, **MsKathy** is compiling a book of author works (over 200 entries long, so far) for anyone who donates at least $5.00 to the cause. I will be contributing a work, as well. Please visit http://mskathyff(dot)blogspot(dot)com/2010/01/haiti(dot)html for more details.

I'm sure you see now why I saved the prompt for the end this time. I know it was longer than the past chapters have been (and that you had to wait ages in comparison for it) but I felt there was a lot that needed to be covered/wrapped up. Here's hoping I did this situation and finale justice.

I'm going to start **EPOV** **this week**. It will be posted under _**Courtiser Incité**_. I must reiterate that if you'd like to be notified when the new story has posted, you must **AUTHOR ALERT** me. I'm beyond grateful for every single fave and story alert but I don't want you to miss out on the notification due to any confusion.

Because wrapping this story up took so long, I'm going to do my very best to update 3 times a week at first. It's less often than I was updating before but I'm hoping this frequency works better for everyone. I have some catching up to do timeline wise but expect to end up posting twice a week at some point.

Thank you SO much to **einfach mich**, my amazing content beta, and **juliebutterfly**, my brainstorming buddy, for all of the chats, slaps around when I needed it, and pre-reads. I swear on everything that this story would have been much lamer without your help. Additionally, thanks again to my sis **Dahlia Black** for making me a beautiful banner (check the profile). I'm absolutely in love with it!

Thanks to **BriannaMarley** (PIMP of the century) and **ChloeWhitlock01** (Review Queen) who have been with me from the beginning, reviewing every chapter almost like clockwork and keeping me motivated on Twitter. I can't tell you what it's meant to me. Also to, **charmizane** and **StarNoble13**, for giving me that extra push I needed to finish this chapter.

And thank you to all of my wonderful readers. I literally bounce and squee over every single review, PM, and alert. Authors often say that they write for themselves, and it's true that we try to, but I know there were many days that I wrote for you. You gave me the drive I needed to do my very best work and not slack off. You're all beyond awesome!

My apologies for the longest A/N ever!


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